


This Is Us

by adia90



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Fix-It, Growing Up, Minor Character Death, Moving On
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-10-27 19:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 56,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17773196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adia90/pseuds/adia90
Summary: Tessa Virtue becomes a mother.





	1. Chapter 1

He’s excited to meet her. It has been a month since they last met and even then they didn’t talk much. They are scheduled to arrive separately, she’s flying in from a skating talk in Vancouver, and he’s flown in from Florida. It feels weird being in the flight alone without her, as he didn’t feel it was right to bring Jackie, and in the end, it brought on a major fight between them.

In Mallorca, her room is on a different floor than his and she sticks close to Miku. Even when they are giving talks, she let him lead, which thank God doesn’t turn into another ‘bandmates’ fiasco.

“We were athletic partners, we wanted to achieve our goals and that was what we had in common. The rest didn’t seem important at the time, having relationships, and now that we are retired, we are free to do so, and for that we are grateful to be over that intense period of regimented schedule. I am sure neither of our romantic partners would appreciate the amount of time we had spent together as a team, and it would make having a romantic relationship difficult. Looking back, 2018 was beautiful, but I’m glad that period of my life is over. It was more beautiful that it ended on such a high note though, and for that we are forever in debt to our trainers and sponsors.”

He ponders on her wording, referring to their partnership as something in the past and he knows they are due for a talk soon.

“Can we put skating on hold after this summer?”

He’s thrown for a loop. He thought whatever was in between them is water under the bridge now. Obviously, he thought wrong. “What do you mean?”

“Well. It will give you ample time to be in Florida and sit for your coaching certificate exam. And I will have time on my own too,” she explains, as she walks briskly to the elevator.

“How about the tour?”

“Nothing is set in stone yet. We haven’t even had the meeting with our sponsors. The contract is valid for two years, Scott,” she says gently, turning to look at him for a second. “We’ll get it together in 2020. If you want,” she adds, shrugging her shoulders.

“T…”

“I’m just thinking about practicality. It’s not practical for you to be travelling up and down the whole time. Once you and Jackie know where to settle down next year, we’ll pursue the tour again.”

She’s rummaging through her clutch for her key it seems. He takes his chance. “Wanna go for a nightcap,” he says it, more like a pledge, rather than an invitation.

She gives him an apologetic smile. “Nah.” she says, laughing a little.

He tries not to pout. “It’s been so long since we last hang out though.”

“I’m sorry, Scott. I’m pretty tired. Raincheck?”

* * *

The next day, he goes down to the lobby with his luggage, determined to sit with her at breakfast. He waits until it is almost time to board the shuttle to the airport. He’s going to meet Jackie in Belize as a consolation for missing Mallorca.

“Are you sure she has checked out?”

The front counter girl giggles. “I’m pretty sure, Mr. Moir. I’d recognise Miss Virtue anywhere. She requested for a wake-up call at 4 am. She said she had an early flight to catch.”

He’s rendered speechless. He tries to call her again, and it goes to the machine, again.

In Belize, Jackie is there as her usual fun self. But he can’t seem to shake the thoughts of Tessa from his brain.

“You seem so pre-occupied, babe. What’s wrong?” Jackie asks, lathering suntan lotion onto her legs.

“Tess requested to hold off skating this year,” he blurts, staring off into the blue sea.

“Oh.”

He turns on his side on the lounge chair to look at her. Her forehead wrinkles in a frown. “What’s with the ‘oh’?”

She shrugs. “Don’t you think she’s trying to sabotage your source of income, knowing you make most money from shows and your tour?”

He sighs. “She’s not sabotaging anything. She has her own projects. Besides, I’m always in Florida, we don’t get enough time on ice together as it is.”

“Are you indirectly blaming me?”

His phone rings and he has never been more thankful for the interruption. Charlie’s name flashes on the screen. “I’m gonna take this,” he says, hopping on the lounge chair. A bit nervous at the long distance call from his brother.

“Hey, Charlie.”

“Scott. Casey and Megan were in an accident. They didn’t make it. You gotta come home,” Charlie rushes in a breath.

“Wait, wait. Casey and Megan, as in Casey Virtue?”

“Who else?”

The breath is knocked out from his chest. “Shit. I’m in Belize, Charlie.”

“So? She’s your fucking partner, Scott.”

He looks behind his shoulder at his girlfriend. “I need to talk to Jackie.”

“Don’t do shit you might regret later, brother.” Then, Charlie goes off without a goodbye.

His heart drops to the ground. Tessa has always looked up to her brothers, although she is closer to Jordan. He remembers Tessa being so enthusiastic about having the first niece in the family.

Poppy. Oh shit.

He walks back to the beach front, where Jackie is suntanning on her back. He bows down in her vision, blocking the sun from her. “Casey and Megan were in an accident.”

“Casey and Megan Virtue?” She knows them from high school.

He nods, his expression somber. “They didn’t make it.”

Her face changes. “Oh, God.”

“I need to go back.”

“We just got here, Scott.”

“Yeah, but Tessa needs me.”

She frowns at his wording. “She has her family with her. You’re not her boyfriend nor her husband.”

“But she’s my best friend, Jackie.”

She gives him an impassive look, and starts to sit up. “Fine. Go. Just do whatever you want to do. It’s not like this relationship is worth anything, right?”

In the end, Jackie apologises for being cranky. And he decides that it would be unfair to go back earlier since he did promise Belize to Jackie. They make it home a week later.

At the church, he stands at the back pew with Jackie, as he tries to locate Tessa in the front pew. She sits with Poppy in her arms, looking heartbreakingly beautiful, despite her tired-looking eyes. He tries to make eye contact during the burial, but her attention is solid on Poppy, who is clambering on Tessa. Both look painfully similar, like mother and daughter, the same hair as Tessa has left it back to her natural hue, not trying to match his anymore.

Back at Kate’s place, he hugs the woman, offering his condolences.

“Nobody should have to bury their own child,” she sighs. Jim stands at the corner with his new wife. It’s pretty common knowledge the Virtues didn’t part on good terms, and Scott knows it takes so much for Kate to allow Jim and the woman he had cheated on her with to step into the house.

“I’m sorry, Kate. I wish there’s anything I could offer to comfort you and your family, but please know, we the Moirs are here for you guys,” he says, engulfing her in another hug, letting the woman who’s like a second mother to him to cry on his shoulder.

He ends up going back home without talking to Tessa at all. Before leaving, he seeks her out, only to find her in bed, sleeping with Poppy in her arms. The sight endears him and breaks his heart at the same time, thinking how Poppy is currently an orphan.

He vows to come back in a few days.

It is about a week later when he shows up in front of Casey’s place in London. He dropped by Tessa’s place earlier, finding it was empty. He knocks once, and it is a few minutes before she actually opens up the door.

“Hey,” she says quietly, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

“How are you holding up?” he asks. Then he looks at the way she’s beckoning him to sit at the stoop. “Why are we talking outside?”

“Casey and Megan named me as Pop’s legal guardian in their will.”

Scott’s eyes widen. “Oh, wow. I didn’t see that coming,” he says, shocked.

She purses her lips, nodding. “Yep. Who would have thought, somebody might want to trust me with their daughter, eh? ”

“I would, in a heartbeat,” he blurts. Before realising his blunder. With whom would he be having said daughter? Although they might have come to an understanding, but he doesn’t think they are at the point where they could joke about it yet.

She gives him a doubtful smile. “Thank you, for the vote of confidence.”

“Can I go see Poppy now?”

She hesitates before answering. “I have something to tell you.”

He looks at her intently. It sounds important. As important as the two-minute talk in front of the escalator back in Mallorca. “Shoot.”

She inhales before averting his eyes. A few kids are playing on the grass next door. “I don’t think you should come around anymore.”

“What the hell, T??”

She turns to face him quickly, before looking the other way. “Seeing you makes Poppy sad. She’s feeling hurt. Honestly, I’m feeling hurt too.”

“Why would she feel hurt? I’m sorry, Tess. I know that I should have come back earlier but I promised Jackie Belize. Come on. Don’t be like this.”

She looks at him then, her face curious. “I didn’t care about that. I didn’t even think about your presence then.”

He can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt when she says that. “Then?”

She hesitates for awhile, juggling things in her mind. “Poppy overheard your girlfriend told her teacher yesterday that you hate me.”

He knows Ronalee teaches at the London Waldorf Kindergarten. She did mention having Tessa's niece in her class once. “I’ve never said that, T! Jesus! Are you sure she heard correctly?”

“Kids don’t lie, Scott. And I trust my niece more than I do you right now, honestly.”

“I’m not saying that Poppy lied. Maybe she took it out of context?”

“How is it out of context when she repeated the words ‘Scott hates Tessa so much he can’t be in the same room with her’?”

“For God’s sake, Tess, I’ve never said that to anybody!”

She sighs, avoiding his angry expression. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s best if we part ways now. What do you think about announcing our retirement tomorrow? I’ll post something online. Simple and to the point.”

“Oh? So you were taking your own sweet time to decide on retirement before and now you can’t wait to get rid of me?” he says, fully aware how his octave is rising.

She gives him a contrite look. “I’m sorry. I was vindictive. Immature. But having Poppy changes everything,” she exhales.

He opens his mouth to answer, but she cuts him off. “I apologise for dragging things. Rest assured as of tomorrow things will be settled between us. We'll talk more about the tour next year, if you want. The current contracts with our sponsors are ending anyway, and it’s best if we don’t have any future business dealing together anymore,” she ends, pulling herself up from the stoop. She hesitates a little, before bidding him farewell.

“So, yeah. I’ll see you around, Scott. My regards to your family.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Nothing could have prepared Tessa to losing a sibling.

Her parents are approaching seventy. As an adult, she is slowly bracing herself to the possibility of losing her parents in the future.

She is even prepared to stay at home and read books to them if any unfortunate event were to take place. One of the reasons why she is working hard now is so that she could be comfortable later, without having to choose career over her family.

She may not be one of those high-powered CEOs in a dress suit or hold the status of a Hollywood celebrity, but their success in the Olympics has provided a cozy cushion for them to land on, and she’s capitalising on it. If people are calling her out on it, so be it.

She’s not hurting anyone in the process.

It’s been about a year since the Olympics. Half a year since the fallout. A few weeks since she has had enough.

Seeing him in Mallorca has been cathartic; it’s safe to say there is no more strong negative emotions tied to seeing Scott again. She prides herself for being pragmatic, hence the steps to see a clinical psychologist back in November, right after their return from the tour.

_“I am aware that this is not your first rodeo. What I’d like to know, why do you require a new face, and whether it’s detrimental to your treatment.”_

_“It’s my first time in this setting actually. I was an athlete so sports counselling and psychology is not a new thing to me. Due to my long-term partnership with my ice-skating colleague, we had to attend some sort of a marriage counselling too. I require a new face, because it is a new set of problems, which may stem from a long-standing issue, and I need a new perspective on it.”_

_“You are very psychologically aware. I’m not too sure whether that’d work to my advantage or the opposite.”_

_“I am aware that I have problems, yes. I am even aware that I am approaching depression and I’d like to fight it. I am here to get better. I won’t harbour negative thoughts.”_

Everyday is a battle. Most days are good, some days are bad. Good days are when she is not bothered by the thoughts of him by keeping herself busy and occupied. Bad days are when she’s in interviews and she keeps being reminded of him, of how ‘ _you guys would make a cute couple_ ’, of when he surfaces on Twitter or Tumblr with Jackie, thanks to the detective work of their fandom.

She learns that she needs to quit the narrative; the fairytale that they’ve both cultivated in order to garner enough attention for Olympics. They might have wanted the fairytale to seep into their off-ice lives, however, it was short-lived, and she really shouldn’t be pointing fingers.

Because the truth is, sometimes things don’t work out.

And she has to get that. She’s working on accepting that that part of their lives is over, and it’s imperative for them ( _her_ ) to move on; starting from cutting the string that ties them together: skating.

She has sworn up and down to multiple people who’s willing to listen that skating doesn’t define her, therefore it’s about time she walks the talk.

She remembers how he had jokingly put up his hand when asked whether any of them were done with competitive skating. At the time, Jackie was visiting them on tour, and she tried her best to steer clear of her. Things were still pretty muddy between them, and in order not to dampen the spirits of other skaters, she tried to avoid any drama. Tessa had acted like it didn’t bother her when Scott had raised his hand, but honestly, it had hurt that he couldn’t wait to be done with her. So that he could move on to the _first_ , _original_ , skating partner.

Maybe it’s about time she’s done too. What’s the point of holding on to something that overwhelms you and fills you with dread?

The next day, she leaves Mallorca with a cleansed soul, like she had purged a balmy part of her life and is so ready to move on to the next stage.

Only to be greeted by a phone call that changes her entire life.

To be fair, Casey and Megan’s deaths change the whole family dynamics. Kate, such a pillar of a woman, broke down in the middle of the coroner’s office and sobbed on the floor after identifying Casey’s body. It took her and Kevin to pull their mother up to her feet, only for her to lose consciousness a few minutes later.

Jim finally returned to the family house after almost a decade after he left. He brought together with him his new wife, his new son (welp, the count wouldn’t be affected much after all) and a pan of pecan pie. She almost snorted when she saw him bringing it into the house.

“I think your dad thinks he’s visiting a relative with a dead son. Jokes on him. His son is the one who’s dead,” Kevin whispers sarcastically into her ear.

“Come on, Kev. Be nice. You like pecan pie,” she says, patting him on his back.

“You go talk to him. I’m done with that asshole.”

“Kev. I need to take care of Poppy.”

Kevin’s face softens. He gives her a side hug. “It’s good to have you back with us, T.”

* * *

“I wanna go back to school today.”

Tessa bends down to look at her niece. She already has her hair in a ponytail and her backpack on.

“Shrimp, I thought you were still sleeping. Are you sure you want to go back to school today?”

Poppy nods her head. She then tilts her head to the side, reaching out to pull on a strand of her aunt’s hair coated in flour. “Are you making pancakes, Aunt T?”

Tessa smiles. “Yeah! Thought I’d surprise you with chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast.”

“Okay, I’ll have two, please. Thank you,” she decides, pulling on the stool and climbing up to settle down behind the counter. “You’re getting so good with the pancakes, Aunt T,” she praises.

Tessa beams. Her biggest fan and food critique has been Poppy, since she had sometimes volunteered to babysit since she was back in London last year. She could always depend on her niece to provide her with the most honest opinion and so far, Poppy hasn’t failed her yet.

“Thank you, Pops. Now, you know Aunt Jo, Uncle Kevin, Grandma, Grandpa and I need to attend a special meeting this afternoon, hence why you need to stay with Aunt Michele,” Tessa continues, already making her way to the stove. The griddle is hot, so she pours the batter into the Mickey Mouse pancake mould before sprinkling chocolate chips on it.

“But I want to go to school!”

Tessa sighs. She needs to discuss with her mother, whether it is appropriate for a kid who has just lost her parents mere two weeks ago to already be going to school.

“I’ll talk to Grandma Kate, okay?”

“Please, aunt T? I’m bored at home. I mean, I love you, but I want to see my friends too!”

“Why don’t I call them for a playdate later? Would you prefer that?” Tessa asks instead, carefully pulling the mould off once the pancake has started to set.

“It’s unfair that you get to go out while I’m stuck at home.”

She flips the pancake carefully before turning to face her niece. Poppy has resorted to crossing her arms, her face petulant.

“You sure you want to go to school?”

“I’m double sure.”

Tessa exhales. Poppy needs to resume her life someday. Might as well start today. “Okay. But you must finish your pancakes first.”

For the first time in two weeks, the little girl with her eyes finally cracks a smile.

* * *

“I’m kind of impressed that Casey had remembered to leave a will,” Jordan whispers into her ear. Kevin snorts from the other side, while Kate and Jim avoid looking at each other.

She nods her head. “Exactly at which point in our lives do we start thinking about writing our will?” she ponders. “I’m just thankful that Casey and Megan had the brains to come up with one. If not, shit would be so messy for Poppy.”

“Well, usually, once you have reached a certain level of contentment in life with some assets to your name, it is advisable for you to start writing a will.”

“Well, you have that assets part covered, T. Not too sure about that contentment part though,” Kevin puts in his two cents. “For the record, I want your TV.”

“Ohhh. I want your wardrobe!”

She rolls her eyes. She loves her siblings to death, and the fact that they could discuss her non-existing will while waiting in the lawyer’s office to be read Casey’s feels like nothing is out of norm. Except for the lack of Casey’s presence, of course.

He would be giving her a noogy by now. _“Just cause you made up pretty doesn’t mean I’m not gonna mess your hair, Shrimp.”_

She sighs. Fuck, what was the last word she had said to Casey? She remembers the conversation. She was in Mallorca, FaceTiming her family on her birthday.

_“That fucking prick couldn’t even wish you on your birthday?”_

_“Well, I’d like not to discuss the fucking prick, please. And once upon a time, you used to love him.”_

_“Yeah. Remind me to take him out of my will.”_

She snorts at the memory. Casey used to be a major shipper of the VM fandom. Scott used to look up to him when they were growing up. They had an intense talk before going to Pyeongchang, the one thing Scott has never talked about until now.

She was curious then. Not anymore, though.

Speaking of the devil, she has not seen him since Mallorca. She heard of him attending the funeral though. She doesn’t hold it against him. She understands they are at a point where they are, at best, only acquaintances.

“Sorry we’re late.” Gina and Dan McGuire, Megan’s parents excuse themselves as they take a place at the nearby sofa.

Tessa gives them a small smile, trying to reassure them. She doesn’t know them well, just that Megan had a strained relationship with them. Being the only daughter to an elite family of doctors, she was regarded as a disappointment when Megan chose to work as a social worker.

Tom Reid, Casey’s family lawyer steps into the room. He carries with him a stack of envelopes, and a thick file. He gives a brief smile to his crowd before settling on the chair, facing the rest of the room. She likes that about Tom, he’s compassionate for a lawyer, never commandeering from behind his desk.

“Thank you for making it today. My condolences to everybody in this room, myself included. Casey and Megan were a good friend of mine, therefore I’d make it my best effort to ensure that their will is properly addressed to their families.”

“The will was written and filed back in April, 2018. At the time, both of them sat down with me three Friday afternoons to compose the most objective and sound testament that would represent them in the afterlife.”

“They both had written a letter to each and everyone of you in this room, including a summary of their will that I will read once all of you has finished reading your personal letter.”

“Any questions, so far?”

The group shake their heads.

With a somber smile, Tom begins handing out the envelopes. Tessa receives hers, recognising the familiar swirl of Casey’s handwriting. She’s hit with nostalgia, remember the last handwritten note she had gotten from him. It was a card for a bouquet of flowers for her birthday, sent to her house right before she left for Mallorca.

Her eyes water slightly.

_Dammit, Casey. It’s been two weeks. Enough of crying over your ass already._

She tears the envelope slowly, not too sure what to expect from her brother and his wife. She loved the fact that at 30, they still treated her like she was 16. She felt like she needed it. A bit of pampering and coddling from the stressful, treacherous world of ice dancing. She tries to guess what Casey and Megan might be leaving to her.

The trampoline? Nah. Poppy might be needing that.

His XBox One? She was getting the hang of Devil May Cry the last time she visited.

Ohhhh, maybe Megan left her state-of-the-art KitchenAid slow cooker and Pro Line Series now she’s getting into cooking.

She smiles at the thought as she read the first sentence.

_Dear Shrimp,_

_We’re sitting here, writing to you, after that videocall from Yokohama. So happy to see you and Scott living the best time of your lives. The past two months were surreal, eh? And we’re still sorry we couldn’t make it to Pyeongchang and missed seeing you in action._

She rolls her eyes. Even in her brother’s will, Scott manages to make a cameo appearance.

_You’re fiery on ice, brave and strong, and we see you carry the spirit off ice, with charms and humility. That’s what we love the most about you, Shrimp. Not the fact that you’re the most decorated figure skater the world has ever seen (that’s pretty cool, of course), but your tenacity, how your survived Canton, Marina (that woman was witch reincarnate, I’d been telling you for so many years) and the vicious world of ice skating full of backstabbers that amazed both Michele and I._

_I kept telling Megan, I’d turn into a psychotic bitch with claw hands if I were subjected to the treatment you had in Canton, and she laughed, telling me thank God you’re the one with the beautiful green eyes and a knack for spinning on ice on thin blades._

Why does it feel like she’s reading her own eulogy? She chuckles a little, leave it to Casey to always boost her spirit.

_Therefore, it is with that in mind, Megan and I have decided to nominate and appoint you as the legal guardian of Poppy Alana Virtue, otherwise known as your niece._

Hold on.

She rereads the sentence again.

_… legal guardian of Poppy Alana Virtue…_

The fuck, Casey? I can barely grow a cactus!

She looks up from her letter, barely recognising her own gasp, and noticing that the rest of the room is already staring at her.

“I guess you have finished reading your letter, Tess?”

She looks at Kate, who looks at her in concern. Jordan raises an eyebrow, clearly asking ‘what’s up’.

“You sure this one is addressed to me, Tom?”

He nods, a serene smile on his face. Fucker. “Witnessed, signed, legal, binding.”

_Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops?


	3. Chapter 3

He goes back to Ilderton feeling confused.

And fucking angry.

Before leaving for the Virtues’, he has left Jackie at her parents’.

He rings the doorbell multiple times, before Jackie makes it to the front door.

“Jesus, baby. I do have neighbors, you know,” she chastises.

“Did you or did you not talk about Tess and I to Ronalee yesterday when you visited her at school?”

“Hello to you too, Scott,” she replies sarcastically, holding the door open. “Come in, please. Talking about you and your ex-skating partner is making me nauseous.”

“Answer me, Jackie.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s a pretty hard topic to avoid. I might have talked about you guys. So what?”

“What exactly did you tell her?”

Jackie frowns. “What is this all about? You told me you went to visit her and Poppy? Don’t tell me the first thing that she did, right after her brother’s funeral, was to badmouth me to you?”

“She didn’t tell me shit. She only told me that I should stop coming over.”

“And you immediately think it was because of me?!”

“No, but I certainly did after she told me about what Poppy overheard at school!”

Jackie’s face changes hue pretty fast.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he sneers. “What the fuck did you tell Ronalee about Tess and I?”

“I didn’t say anything malicious, if that’s what you’re implying!”

“Are you saying a 5 year-old has the capabilities to lie?”

“Why not? She’s related to her majesty Tessa _fucking_ Virtue, isn’t she?”

He stares at her, speechless.

“Fuck,” she mutters. “I didn’t mean that, baby,” she backtracks, grasping for his arm.

He pushes her hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” she says, looking contrite.

He looks at her disbelievingly. “How can you talk that way about a 5 year-old, Jackie? She’s a child, for God’s sake!”

She sighs. “All I’m saying is she might have heard wrongly.”

“Whatever she may have heard made her so sad she doesn’t want to see me, Jackie. How could you have said she heard wrongly? What the hell did you actually say?”

“Come on, Scott. You’re making a huge thing out of nothing!”

“Jackie, that little girl is like my own niece. I’ve loved her from the moment she was born and she had never not wanted to see me. Do you understand the magnitude of your speech to make her feel like this?”

Jackie crosses her arms, her eyes narrowed. “Why are you talking to me this way? Why do you make her sound more important to you than I am?”

“Because she honestly is!”

She looks taken aback. Then her face changes to that of fury. “Fuck you, Scott,” she says, loud and clear.

He refrains from the saying the same thing to her. He was taught to respect women, even if they don’t deserve an ounce of it now.

“Where was all this care and love for her when her parents died two weeks ago? Let’s face it, you don’t really care as much as you claim you do,” she continues, sneering.

He steps back, taking a proper look at the woman who was his constant companion for close to a year now. She was fun, she took his mind off things. Maybe _too_ much off things, he realises.

“Thank you for having me realised the mistakes I’ve been making. You can just dump my shit over there back in Tampa, or you can burn them. Nothing important there, anyway.”

“Are you breaking up with _me_?”

“What do you think? You think you can badmouth one of my best friends and talk shit about her in front of her own niece and get away with it?”

She points her index finger to his chest repeatedly, her face heated. “You came to me first, Scott,” she hisses.

He chuckles, shaking his head. He takes a step back, unwilling to be in contact even at finger point with the woman in front of him. “You fucking _offered_ yourself to me. I was not gonna push away a willing pussy,” he says, shrugging.

He swears he could see the smack coming but decides to take it like a champ. He knows he oversteps the bound but he is fucking pissed.

“Don’t you come crying back to me if she dumps your sorry ass, again!”

* * *

“Jesus Christ, Ron. She could have reported you! Why the hell were you talking about Tess and I in school, in front of her niece?”

Ronalee’s face colors. Getting caught gossiping about the family member of one of her pupils is not really the highlights of her teaching career she would like to relive. “We didn’t realise she was there, Scott.”

“Still, in school? And as for fact, I’ve never said that I hated Tess to Jackie. I don’t even talk about Tess to Jackie. What else did she tell you?”

Ronalee snorts. “Are you telling me that you’ve never bitched about your goody two-shoes ex to your current girlfriend?”

Scott rolls his eyes. “Guys don’t bitch, Ron. Why would I talk about Tess to Jackie? You really think I would sit down and cry about Tessa to her?”

“Because she was the one who dumped you! You really should stop defending her, Scott! You’re retired. She fucked up, there’s no more brand to protect. Just let the truth out!”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not defending her. She didn’t dump me. I left her, because she wanted time before we make things official.”

Her head snaps up from her gaze on the window.

“Yeah. Way to go blaming an innocent woman, eh?”

“But-, but, why would she ask for time?”

Scott shrugs, running a hand through his hair. It’s getting long. And he’s getting tired. “Who the fuck knows. Maybe the same reason she knew I’d snap, instead of thinking like a rational 30 year-old and fuck the next girl available. And maybe, just to take the extra mile, I’d make it my first skating partner, just to piss her off,” he replies nonchalantly. “The fact is, I fucked up. She didn’t. So, next time you want to gossip in front of a 5 year-old, just don’t.”

* * *

“Poppy, remember what I said, shrimp? One cereal, and one fruit.”

Poppy wrinkles her nose. “But fruits are yucky, Aunt T!”

“I remember your aunt saying the same thing when she was little. But she grew up loving strawberries and bananas, and that’s why she’s so strong and beautiful.”

Tessa snaps her head to face the owner of the voice she doesn’t exactly want to have a conversation with.

“Uncle Scott,” Poppy mumbles, half shocked, half scared, hiding her face behind Tessa’s thigh.

“Hi, Poppy,” Scott says, bending down to greet the little girl with a high five. His hand wavers in the air for awhile, as Poppy looks up to him hesitantly. His heart falters.

“Come on, Pops. Don’t leave Uncle Scott hanging,” Tessa cajoles gently.

Poppy reaches up and returns his high five half-heartedly. “Thanks, Pops. I was getting worried there,” Scott says, trying to entice the little girl. In another life, Poppy wouldn’t wait to dash to wrap her arms around him. How did they get to the point where he has to coax her to come out from her hiding place behind her aunt’s legs?

The girl looks down to the floor, refusing eye contact. Scott looks up to Tessa, who gives him a blank face, her hand gently patting Poppy’s back reassuringly.

_Come on, T._

“You guys had lunch yet? Wanna join me for pizza?” he tries.

Poppy promptly shakes her head.

“Aww, come on, Pops. You seriously saying no to pizza?” If his voice breaks a little, he pretends that it’s nothing.

“She’s in a pasta phase, aren’t you, shrimp? All things mac n’ cheese,” Tess says, trying to lay him off gently. She looks down at her niece, trying her best to calm the little girl down.

“We can go to The Coop. You know they serve the best mac n cheese in town. It’s one of your aunt’s favorite places, Pops.”

“I wanna eat at home,” Poppy says, fists at her sides.

Scott opens his mouth to try again, before seeing Tessa’s subtle head shake. He exhales. “Okay, Poppy. Maybe I can bring some to your place?”

“ _No_. I want aunt T’s mac n cheese.”

_Stop_ , Tessa mouths to him.

He can’t, actually. He loves Poppy like she’s his own and it’s breaking his heart that she can’t stand him now.

“Okay, okay. For lunch we’ll have mac n cheese, again. But you need to pick a fruit, Pop. Why don’t we say goodbye to Uncle Scott and continue with our shopping?” Tessa coaxes gently.

“Bye,” the little girl mumbles curtly, slamming her face against her aunt’s thigh.

Tessa offers Scott a small smile. She pushes her cart and pulls her niece along, prompting the girl to wave at Scott. “Bye, Scott. Say hi to your family.”

Scott stands in the middle of the aisle, watching the two depart further and further, wanting so much to follow them. “Take care, girls. Call me if you need anything,” he calls out, trying one last time.

Tessa just lifts an arm and gives him a wave over her shoulder, already looking the other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urm, well. That happened.


	4. Chapter 4

_You know the feeling of being somewhere but not really there? Feeling like you’re looking at yourself from another angle of the room, not actually being in your body?_

_“… to act as co-guardians to Poppy Alana Virtue upon our death._

_Upon our deaths, the designated guardians shall have the following authority:_   
_residential custody of Poppy Alana Virtue;_   
_approve medical treatment of any kind, or to disapprove the same within the bounds of the law;_   
_designate schooling for the minor child, and access to any and all of her educational records;_   
_generally act in loco parentis.”_

“That’s preposterous! She’s not even in the country half of the time!” Dan shouts. Tessa didn’t know that the man could shout.

“She’s semi-retired. She’s been in the country longer than you have been, Gina! Didn’t you just come back from your eighth trip this year, cruising around the world?”

“I haven’t finished reading the will. Please refrain from commenting til the very end.”

“Sorry, Tom,” Jordan mumbles, settling herself down.

“It’s alright,” he clears his throat, resuming reading the will. “In the event that formal legal proceedings are commenced to establish a guardian for the child, it is my desire that the guardians mentioned herein have priority in appointment.”

“We’re going to contest the will,” Gina vows, already standing up.

Tom rests the piece of paper on his lap. “You can try, but your daughter and Casey’s last will is very solid.”

The woman throws a disgusted look her way. She knows that she should snap out from whatever trance she is in, but it is as if she has lost her voice.

“What do they know about taking care of a child?”

“More than you do, apparently, by the rate of how Megan had refused to stay a day longer than necessary with you every time they visited,” Jordan bites back.

“Jordan!” Kate chastises.

Gina’s face breaks and Tessa immediately feels bad. She stands up promptly, finally snapped out of her stupor. “I’m sorry, Gina. I -.”

“Are you going to file for permanent custody?” the older woman demands, cutting off her apology.

“Of course! She’s my niece -.”

“Then I’ll be seeing you in court,” Gina says curtly, before turning to pull Dan on his arm and stepping out from the room.

Tessa looks around, fully aware how her face is definitely comical with how her jaw has dropped and her eyes wild. Jordan looks at her in intrigued, Kevin with probably sympathy, with an ounce of disbelief, her mother with slight pity but more of pride, her father, looking hopeful?

What does he have to be hopeful for?

“What the hell happened? Did Casey really leave Poppy to me?” she wonders, her head hurting.

Kevin nods slowly. “Yeah, he did, sis. What are you going to do about it?”

She falls on her seat, rubbing her mouth, speechless. She goes back to the will that was read a few minutes ago. “Why did he leave you with a classic car and me with a child?” she asks again, so dumbfounded it’s not funny.

“What are you going to do, Tessa?” Kate asks gently, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She snaps her head up, staring at her mother. “I came here fully prepared to take care of Poppy as a support system to maybe _you_ or maybe _Kevin_ , the _MARRIED_ one,” she begins. She leans back against the sofa, trying to catch her breath. “ _Damn_ , Case. You got me good,” she mumbles.

Kevin chuckles while Jordan gives her a teary smile.

“You have to apply for permanent custody within ninety days if you want to, Tessa,” Tom supplies, smiling apologetically at her. He knows she is still in shock. “I shall help you with the process. Just say the word.”

She nods, looking at him, grateful. “Must all nominated name apply or can I apply for sole custody?”

“You can apply for sole custody, but to increase the chance of retaining Poppy’s custodianship, I suggest the both of you work together.”

“Damn,” she mutters again. Then her phone rings with the number from Poppy’s school. Alarmed, she excuses herself.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Virtue. It’s Mrs. Flint. Is it possible for you to pick Poppy up earlier? She’s having a hard time in school and crying quite inconsolably here in my office.”

“I’ll be there,” she says, already picking up her purse. “I need to go pick Poppy up. She’s crying in school.”

“I’m joining you,” Jordan decides.

The drive to Poppy’s school is short but filled with dread. She knew it was too early to let her back to school. She parks hastily, throws the door open and hurries inside the school, Jordan following close behind.

The door to Mrs. Flint’s room is slightly ajar and she can hear Poppy’s muffled cries. Her heart breaks for the little girl. Poppy didn’t even hiccup this badly when she first learnt about her parents’ demise.

She knocks once and then barges in, her arms open and ready. “I’m here, Shrimp.”

Poppy promptly falls into her arms, her sobs getting louder. “Take me home, aunt T! I don’t wanna be in school!” she wails, her little hands trashing on Tessa’s back.

“Shh, shh. Okay, shrimp, okay. Aunt T will take you back home, baby. I’m here, Aunt Jo in here. You don’t have to be scared, okay?” she coaxes, hugging the little girl close, kissing her hair to reassure her.

Poppy nods, her crying slightly subdued. “Please take me home, aunt T. I don’t wanna be in school anymore,” she repeats, this time quieter.

Tessa stands up, with Poppy clinging tightly to her. She looks up to face the headmistress, who looks on pitifully at the little girl. She understands that Poppy has just lost both parents, but this morning, the little girl entered the school full of determination and spirit. She is quite lost herself as to what causes the girl to be so hysterical after recess.

“We’re going home soon, okay? Why don’t you follow aunt Jo to the car and I’ll be there in a jiffy?” she says gently to Poppy.

Poppy nods and she hops into Jordan’s arms, and the two depart the office, with Jordan promising ice cream in the little girl’s ear.

“What happened, Mrs. Flint?” Tessa begins, curious. Poppy has always liked school. She loves her friends and her classes. She didn’t hear about any bullies or mean person coming from Poppy before. What could cause such a breakdown?

Mrs. Flint shrugs, looking apologetic. “She was sent here by Mrs. Lindt, who found her under the big tree, crying, when she failed to show up after recess.”

Tessa’s heart breaks. “Do you think she’s missing her parents? Or did anybody say anything that might trigger her? She didn’t cry as much when she was home.”

“It could be, Miss Virtue. The school counsellor and I tried to talk to her, but she kept on repeating she only wanted to talk to you.”

Tessa sighs, wondering what’s going on in Poppy’s mind.

“Would you mind if I suggest a sit-down session with Miss William, our school counsellor, in the future, to gauge Poppy’s emotional condition?”

She nods quickly. “I would like that very much, Mrs. Flint. Thank you.”

That night, Tessa tucks Poppy in with a Dr. Seuss’ One Fish, Two Fish book. They are on the last page. “Today is gone. Today was fun,” Tessa reads, her voice soothing.

“Today wasn’t fun,” Poppy mumbles.

Tessa closes the book. “Do you wanna talk about it?” she asks gently.

“Do you hate Uncle Scott, aunt T?”

Tessa blinks. Not exactly the question she is anticipating. She shakes her head. “No. He’s one of my best friends,” she says, smiling wistfully. She had once said, their friendship kind of ebbs and flows, while now it’s ebbing away, she knows they would still be friends for life.

Poppy frowns. “But he hates you, aunt T. Why would you be best friends with somebody who hates you?”

Shocked, Tessa decides to tread carefully. “Who told you that, Poppy?”

“I heard Mrs. Lindt talking to her friend about you and Uncle Scott during recess today. Her friend said Uncle Scott hates you so much he can’t be in the same you as you.”

Her heart thuds in her chest. Did Scott really say that? To whom?

“She said it’s hard being his girlfriend. People talk badly about her because of you,” Poppy continues.

Tessa exhales. Fuck. How does she handle this?

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop, Poppy.” _Really, Virtue?_

“I didn’t mean to. I just came back from the restroom and I wanted to take my lunch out,” Poppy explains.

“Maybe they were talking about another Scott and another Tessa?” she tries.

“Aunt T, I’m five, not stupid,” Poppy says, matter-of-factly.

“Sometimes you can’t believe what you hear, Pops.”

She shrugs, pulling on a loose thread on her comforter. “Still, I haven’t seen Uncle Scott at all since mommy and daddy died. It might be true, you know?”

_It might be, huh?_

“It’s okay, aunt T. You have other friends. Aunt Dori, Uncle Peter, Aunt Kat, Uncle Charlie, they were all here during the funeral.”

She nods, smiling half-heartedly.

“If Uncle Scott doesn’t want to be your friend, I don’t want to be his either.”

“Naw, come _on_ , Poppy.”

“I’m serious. I don’t want to talk to him anymore.”

“I know you’re angry, Pops, but don’t you think -.”

“I’m sleepy, Aunt T.”

She sighs. She watches as Poppy turns on her side, facing away from her. She puts the book on the night stand and stands up from the bed. “Lights on or lights off?”

“Off," the little girl answers unceremoniously.

Tessa leans down to leave a kiss on Poppy’s hair. “I love you, Poppy. Moon and back,” she whispers.

“I love you too, Aunt T. Moon and back.”

* * *

The talk with Scott yesterday leaves her feeling bereft, but ironically, free.

Poppy decides to stay in again today. And she needs to have words with Poppy’s teacher.

She looks out the window, the morning sun filtering through. It still feels strange to wake up in Casey’s guest bed. She grabs the phone on the nightstand, logging on to Instagram. It’s been a couple of weeks since her last post. She smiles ruefully. It must have been some sort of a record for her, to stay off social media for so long.

She carefully chooses the picture from their first photoshoot ever; back when they were seven and nine, he was in that ruffled shirt with black coat tail, she was in the black dress, looking so much like Poppy.

Her fingers linger on her phone, figuring the right words to say. It takes her awhile and a few tears before settling on an appropriate text.

_‘Scott and I would like to announce our official retirement and the dissolution of our business/skating partnership starting from today. We have been blessed with 22 wonderful years of friendship, success, laughters, tears, ups and downs. Both of us have new chapters in our lives to concentrate on separately, and we will look fondly to the memories that we have shared together. From the bottom of our hearts, we would like to thank all of our fans for your constant support and outpouring of love._

_Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened ~ Dr. Seuss.’_

She switches to edit her profile, and her thumb determinedly pushes the X button, to delete Scott Moir from her bio, and her life, once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bye. Maybe?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot misinterpreted my 'bye'! It was meant for Scott from Tessa, my boos. I'd never say bye to you guys without a proper warning :) Thank you for reading!

His phone rings once. Then twice.

He looks at it. _Cara_. He’s really not in the mood to talk. Nevertheless, he hits answer, then the loudspeaker icon.

“Did you see Tessa’s latest IG post?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes on the road.

“What the hell’s happening?” Cara demands.

“Your friend happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Scott exhales. Does he want to tattletale? Maybe he does. Because maybe Cara is somehow responsible for introducing him to Jackie. So she has a hand in destroying his relationship with Tessa, and Poppy, by extension.

He realises he’s talking and thinking cock, but he doesn’t care.

“Jackie spoke about Tess and I to Ronalee and her school, and Poppy overheard them,” he begins.

“Okayyyyy.”

“She apparently said that I hate Tessa so much that I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her,” he continues.

“Shit.”

“Uh huh. Poppy overheard that.”

“What the hell was she thinking?”

“Why don’t you ask her? I don’t plan on ever having another conversation with her.”

The line goes quiet for a beat. “Did you guys break up?”

“You’d think?”

“Okay,” Cara replies simply.

Scott raises his brows in disbelief. “You’re not going to rant about how it’s the worst mistake of my life? Or how she deserves another chance?”

“You’ve made worse mistakes before, Scott. Breaking up with a woman you’re hardly in love with is not going to be ‘the worst mistake of your life’, unquote.”

He can’t believe what Cara is saying. “Are you saying that my relationship with Jackie was a mistake?”

“Both of you guys were on a rebound, Scott.”

“You were the one who introduced us!”

“I admit my part in that.”

“What the hell are you saying?”

Cara sounds exasperated on the other end. “Look, all I’m saying, all it did was drove you and Tessa apart. You guys were unresolved. I don’t know what the hell happened between you guys, but you just up and left her. You went radio silence for _months_ , Scott. She had to shoulder the whole responsibility of promoting the telecast, your sponsors, going for talks, _alone_. You disappeared. You were not Virtue & Moir anymore.”

He’s left with resounding silence. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” he asks quietly.

“Was this something you really wanted to hear?”

The question goes unanswered.

He pulls over by the roadside as his head is killing him. “She didn’t tell me anything.”

“She has learned overtime, to give you space.”

_Space. Yeah._ “I have so much of it now I don't know what to do with it. She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore,” he rants, petulant.

“I don’t blame her. You went berserk after Andrew, and it turned out to be a nothing. So what if they really dated. You were dating your first skating partner. How do you think that makes her feel?”

“They were _not_ dating, Cara. He was just being a friend,” he reiterates, still unable to process the possibility of her dating one of his closest friends. _But why not, Scott? She’s single. She’s definitely not attached to you. And not obligated to wait for you._

“Don’t you feel like such an asshole after?”

He bangs on the honk once. “I know I was wrong, _okay_ ,” he says, his voice rising.

“Yes. And I blabbed about it to people. I had a part in that too.”

He removes his Leafs hat and throws it on the backseat. Still frustrated, he bangs on the dashboard. “Fuck. I messed up, Cara.”

“We both did, Scott,” she replies quietly. “We both did.”

* * *

Charlie is sitting on the porch when he pulls in at his mother’s place.

“So, I keep on waiting for when you’re going back to Florida. I might need to borrow your car for a date night with Nicole.”

“Could have just told me, Charlie. Just take it,” he says, throwing his car key to his brother.

“So, when are you going back to Florida?”

He flicks his eyes at Charlie before sitting next to him on the porch. “Never.”

“Huh. So Jackie’s moving back?”

“No.”

He looks at him closely. “You broke up,” he states. Then he looks over Scott’s shoulder, toward something in the distance. “Huh.”

“What’s _huh_? That was a second _huh_.”

“Nothing.”

“Come on. Speak your mind. You never hesitated before.”

Charlie shrugs. “Just wondering when the hell did you actually regain your sanity.” Then he looks back at his youngest brother, a sympathetic smile on his face. “Though who knows, it might be too late.”

Scott exhales.

“I saw her IG post. Nicole showed it to me.”

Scott nods, tossing his hat in the air before catching it again. His hands need to be in constant motion if he wants to avoid punching something.

“I”m sorry, Scott.”

He shrugs. His face crumples a little. It’s only Charlie. Charlie saw him when he had full-on wailed after Tessa had refused to speak to him after her first surgery. “You think, in all honesty, I can't fix this anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie replies quietly. “Do you wanna talk?”

“No. I just. I think I’m gonna go for a walk.”

* * *

When he sees Ronalee’s face upon his request, he isn’t sure anymore.

“You could get me in serious trouble, Scott.”

He kicks a pebble away. “Come on, Ron. _You owe me_.”

“I’m already on precarious terms with her. I don’t need to add this to the pile.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Ronalee sighs. “Make it quick. And don’t make her cry.”

* * *

“Hi, Poppy. Do you mind if I sit next to you?”

He notices the moment Poppy panics and tries to dart away from the table. “ _Please_ , Poppy. If you say no, I’ll go away. But I would really like to talk to you,” he begs, lowering his voice to a gentle whisper.

The girl seems to stop fidgeting and nods her head hesitantly.

Scott exhales a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“What do want to talk about?” she asks, her voice small, unlike previously where every word to Scott was in excited shouts.

“I want to talk about the thing you heard a last week. About auntie T and I.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But I need to correct what you hear.”

“I don’t want to talk to you about it. I talked to aunt Jo, and she said sometimes adults end up not liking each other anymore. It’s okay. I understand, Uncle Scott.”

_Thanks, Jo,_ he thinks dryly. Another bridge he has to mend. “But that’s the thing, Pops. Some adults do not like each other. But it’s impossible for me not to like your aunt T.”

“Why not? You were not there for her. You didn’t come for mommy and daddy’s funeral. You were away so many times. You have another girlfriend. Tim said last week he hated Claire, that was why he got himself a new girlfriend.”

Scott pauses, taking a deep breath. He knows he fucked up a few weeks back. He should have flown back to be with T the moment he found out about Casey and Megan from Charlie. He should have visited earlier.

Well, when he’s at it, he shouldn’t have drunk too much last July, shouldn’t have fucked Jackie, and definitely shouldn’t start something he had known wouldn’t end up well.

In the moment of stupidity and blind rage, he’s lost the most important woman in his life, and perspective.

And who the hell are Tim and Claire?

“It’s impossible because I love your aunt Tessa. That’s why I can’t ever hate her,” he explains gently, only to the wrong Virtue.

Poppy ponders on his speech, a blank expression on her face. Another thing she picked up from her aunt. “I don’t think I believe you.”

“Why not?”

“You guys are not even friends. Friends don’t hurt each other. And you hurt Aunt T. _A lot._ ”

“I… I -.”

“Aunt T used to cry in her room looking at your pictures. So you must have done something bad to make her cry.”

Scott swallows, hard. His own heart chips. “She made me cry too, sometimes," he defends.

“Has she said sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Have _you_ said sorry?”

He goes back to their talk on her stoop a few weeks back. “No.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“But Poppy, please understand, what you heard, that wasn’t true.”

Poppy frowns. “But she’s your girlfriend. How could you pick such a sucky girlfriend who lies?”

He’s speechless. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore.”

“Good. Cause she sucks,” she declares. Then she looks back at Scott guiltily. “Please don’t tell aunt T I said ‘sucks’. She told me it’s not nice to call people that.”

Scott lets out a little laugh. “She’s right.”

“But I don’t want you to be friends with aunt T anymore.”

His heart thuds painfully in his chest. “Why not?”

“Because now that you guys are not friends, she doesn’t cry anymore. She’s doing so much better. I don’t want aunt T to cry like last time," she explains, her hands pulling her sandwich apart. She has pulled the blueberry ear from her strawberry Mickey Mouse. It has Tessa all over her lunch box. “So. Don’t be friends with her anymore. Can you promise me that?”

He remembers her buying cute bento sets for Poppy back in Japan. He shakes his head. “You can ask me a lot of things, Pops. But please don’t ask me that.”

“Why not?” the little girl asks petulantly. 

“Because I can’t live without your aunt, Poppy.”

She looks at him blankly. Not fully understanding.

“You’re only going to make her cry.”

“Adults make each other cry all the time, Pops. But that doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. Most of the times, when we cry, it means that we really care. I can’t promise I won’t make your aunt cry again. But I will also make aunt Tessa smile, and laugh. I’m going to love her so good, Poppy. But you need to give me your permission.”

Poppy stares, trying to gauge his mind. She would grow up to be a great psychologist, he's sure. Finally, she lets out a huge breath. “Are you sure I’m not going to regret it?”

He holds out his pinky to her. “I promise, Poppy.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Hello, best friend. I just called, to say, I inherit a child.”

Midori’s gasp could be heard from a mile away. “Holy fucking shit! Casey gave you Poppy?”

Tessa nods to no one in particular. “Yep. Yep, he did.”

Midori whistles. For such a classy lady, that woman can whistle.

“Fuck, T. You can’t even keep a cactus alive.” Definitely not _too_ classy.

Tessa rolls her eyes as she swipes her mascara on. _Keep it simple, Tess. You’re not going on The Morning Show._ “Not exactly the kind of pep talk I wanna hear, Dori.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Tessa chuckles. “It’s okay. I know, I know. I’m still reeling with shock. Fucking Casey. At least give me some warning, why didn’t he. Maybe I could have picked up Growing A Child 101 from Barnes and Nobles or something.”

Midori laughs. “Are you okay, Virtue? Do you need me to go down there?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Poppy is a gem. I have a checklist. I need to apply for formal permanent custody. I need to talk to Kevin and Jo to make sure they are okay with me having Poppy. While we are at that, I need to ponder and ask the Universe, since Casey for sure as hell isn’t here to provide me answers, on why he left Poppy to me.”

“I bet that’s just the top 3 of your to-do list.”

She sighs. She applies a thin layer of her favorite lip balm. The photobooth shot of her and Poppy stuck on her mirror catches her eyes. Her face breaks into a smile. “You’re right. I’m grateful for Poppy. I am. I believe any child is everything good in life. But I’m a thirty year-old single woman, who barely knows how to boil water, and does not know the first thing about parenting. Oh, number 4, I need to buy a crockpot. I heard it makes life easier by ten-fold.”

“Oh, you heard right. Definitely ten-fold. And don’t bullshit, I ate your frittata at the funeral. It was delicious. You’ve improved by leaps and bounds, Virtue.”

She chuckles. That was a good recipe. Thank you, Ina Garten. “Number 5, I need to schedule an appointment with a child therapist. Poppy is going to need it.”

“That’s a good idea, babe. See, you’re on a roll and you’re just starting. You’re getting a hang at this parenting thing.”

“Ha. Not too sure about that cause number 6, I’mma go and punch somebody for upsetting my shrimp a few days back.”

“Whoa, dial down the ferocity, my friend. What happened? Who’s a bitch? Do you need another fist?”

“I thought you told me to calm down!”

“Yes, well, we all make preconceived judgments sometimes. Tell me what happened. Who dared to upset my sweet Poppy?”

Tessa rehashes the story, trying to sound as detached as possible. “And hence, my insta post two days ago.”

“Shit. A lot _CAN_ happen in a few days. Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

“You don’t say.”

“Try not to destroy them too much with your kindness, T. With all your talks about punching people in their faces, I know the only thing you’re going to do is put them in their place with words. That shit is just frustrating. Let some fists fly.”

Tessa sighs. “I don’t know, Dori. I AM a mother, after all. I need to lead by example. I can’t be pulling Ronalee’s hair and expect Poppy not to follow in my footsteps.”

“Ooohhhh, I’d give a hundred dollars to see that show!”  
  
She laughs. “Shut up. Tell me to settle down, not rile me up some more. Next thing you know you’d be seeing me on CTV getting arrested,” she jokes.

Midori cackles. They share a laugh about the most appropriate getup to be arrested in, trashy rocker chick ala Lindsay Lohan or retro 70s bangs-for-days ala Jane Fonda. “You know who _I_ want to punch? I want to punch Scott Moir in the face for all the shit he put you through for the past year,” Midori says without preamble.

“Get in line.”

Another low whistle. “Wow. I thought I’d never see the day.”

Tessa gathers her hair in a high ponytail. Half ponytail is for pussies. Today she means business. “Yeah? The day is finally here. But you know what? I don’t give a shit about Scott Moir anymore. He and his girlfriend can go and copulate like rabbits all they want but stay off my lane. Or I’m gonna dog walk them.”

Midori’s cackles couldn’t be contained. “You’re channelling Cardi B somewhat strong, mamacita. Look, I love you, if you want an extra fist, I’m going to be there. Just say the word, baby.”

“Nah. Just hang by the phone in case you’re gonna catch me with my one phone call from the police station.”

* * *

It is all very anti-climactic.

She is about to knock on Ronalee’s classroom door (who the fuck knocks when she’s trying to raise hell?) when the woman looks up from her teaching aid book. Ronalee puts her sandwich aside primly before standing up. Tessa could see the flash of fear on the blonde’s face before she schools it into a timid smile.

“Tessa. Come in, please.”

_Huh_. And she was even about to roll up her sleeves. She has put on a long-sleeve blouse just for the occasion too.

“You’re here to talk about Poppy, I assume.”

Tessa nods. “You assume right.”

Ronalee gestures to the chair in front of her. “Please, take a seat.”

“Would it change the outcome of our talk if I were to sit down?”

Ronalee sighs. She lets go of all pretence. “I know you feel like scratching my face for what Poppy overheard, and for what it’s worth, I apologise.”

Tessa scrutinises the woman’s face in front of her. She does look contrite, but to what extend? “You’re not a half-bad person, Ron, despite your malicious sneer to me every time we met in the past. And I’m sure you’re not a half-bad teacher, because Poppy genuinely liked you. But gossiping about a pupil’s relative, in school, that was not very clever.”

The blond woman looks down on her sandwich in shame. “I’m sorry. It was a lapse of judgment.”

“You shouldn’t be apologising to me for being an idiot and putting your career in jeopardy.”

“I am sorry for badmouthing you and believing baseless scandals, Tessa.”

“I don’t care about that. What I’m concerned about, is the fact that you traumatised my niece and now not only she hates you and Scott, she hates school too,” Tessa explains. “And that’s a bad thing, Ronalee, because you’re a decent teacher.”

“I take responsibility -.”

“Screw responsibility. What are you going to do about Poppy?”

Ronalee’s eyes are brimming with tears. “I-, I, I don’t know.”

Tessa sighs. “I really don’t want to report you. You may think I’m a sad bitch who seemed to be pining after his ex-skating partner, but I’m not a vindictive person.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Tessa stares at the woman in front of her. For years, she had tried to win her and her friends over. But she was always labelled as the bratty one, the snobbish one, and as of the latest update on Tumblr, the slutty one. She knows they had been calling her ‘princess’ behind her back too. Fuck, maybe Scott did too, and she was too rose-colored glasses to see it.

“I’d be willing to give some leeway, if you could sit down and talk to Poppy about it. I’ve explained my part so we could all just simply educate her on how adult friendships may come and go. And you need to pull her back into your corner.”

Ronalee looks at her weirdly. “I don’t understand.”

Tessa sighs. Teachers can't be this dense, can they? “The thing is, she doesn’t want to see Scott because she feels like it’s hurting me. Despite whatever problem Scott and I have, I don’t think Scott deserves to be disliked by Poppy. You could tell her it’s okay if aunt Tessa and Uncle Scott are not friends anymore. It doesn’t mean that she has to stop being friends with him.”

Ronalee looks positively lost. “Why would you want to preserve whatever Scott has with Poppy?”

“Because, I reiterate, I’m not a vindictive person. He may not be able to stand me anymore, but he genuinely loves Poppy. And she genuinely liked you as a teacher,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So, what do you think? Or should I pay a visit to Mrs. Flint?”

* * *

Well.

One down, five more to go.

Although the confrontation didn’t go exactly as she envisioned (hair pulling, cheek smacking, bruise inducing), she is satisfied with the result. She has staged a supervised meeting between Ronalee and Poppy tomorrow at the park, in order to coax Poppy to attend school again.

Besides, there’s only two more weeks left of school, she doesn’t want Poppy to miss important dates such as convocation and the farewell party before entering first grade next fall.

For the next order of business, Tessa pulls in at the local Canadian Tire to purchase the number four item on her list. She’s been salivating over some beef stew and she saw the best recipe online the other day.

She has done her research on the best crockpot in the market. After all, Tessa Virtue is known for her analytical skills and she doesn’t want to skip that important part when she’s venturing into the kitchen. She heads directly to kitchenware, fully aware that Canadian Tire is having a massive pre-summer sale and it might have sweetened the deal for her.

After making friends with the sales clerk, she is left with two candidates to choose from; Cuisinart Programmable Slow Cooker, and Zojirushi Multicooker. The japanese version is going to leave a dent in her purse (she needs to watch her spending now that she's responsible for Poppy, even mountains can be reduced to rubbles), but according to Courtney, the sales clerk, she is going to end up using the multicooker every day since it’s very versatile.

She makes up her mind, hugs the huge box to her chest, and thanks Courney profusely. She marches to the cashier to pay when she spots a very familiar head at the toiletries aisle.

“Shit,” she mutters, ducking behind a row of vacuum cleaners. She peeks to see if the person is still trying to choose his deodorant, and it seems like he is taking his own sweet time.

Tessa looks in both direction, not wanting to draw attention to herself; squatting behind home appliances hugging an expensive multicooker as if she’s trying to make a dash for it without paying. She peeks at the toiletries aisle again and curses.

“Damn it. Pick up your damn Fresher Fiji Old Spice and be gone,” she mutters. True enough, after another perusal, the person picks the very same scent and walks away.

Tessa breathes out a sigh of relief and stands straight. Her spine cracks a little; funny to think it was only last year that she was Olympics-eligible. She chuckles, smiles at the cashier, pays her purchase and steps out of Canadian Tire feeling relieved.

Feeling on top of the world for making a clean break, her high substantially lessens at a package stuck under her wiper. A piece of yellow Post-it bearing a very familiar scrawl of the letter ’T’ is stuck on the package. She disarms her alarm and places her crockpot safely in the back seat before pulling the package from under the wiper. She tears the package warily, revealing a book with a collection of slow cooker recipes.

_Heard that this is the best crockpot recipes collection in the market._

_P/S: you can’t hide for shit. I could smell your Lavanila from a mile away._

_S_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy anniversary, guys :)

He can’t believe she had tried hiding from him. 22 years of partnership, she has never pulled this stunt.

_Guess she doesn’t want to see your mug anytime soon, Scott._

He had half the mind to sneak behind and scare the shit out of her when she was hiding behind the vacuum cleaners. That ought to teach her a lesson.

Being back in Ilderton feels weird. Lives went on during his absence. He had talked about giving back to the skating community. Well, the pairs that he was coaching last summer had gone and seek for another potential coach in Kitchener. His mother and aunt have hired a new ice dance coach for the junior team. Even Tessa has seemed pretty settled in London, with the soft opening of her design label company in London.

He has yet to establish a foundation for his life post-skating. Last month, he was still pretty happy jumping from one flight to another, going for short holidays with his girlfriend. In between the break, he would lounge and putter around Jackie’s apartment, trying to be helpful to the household. He went to gym, came back to sort through his emails, made lunch, repeat. If there was anything he had to attend pertaining their partnership, he would make a short visit to Canada before leaving again.

“You’re back early,” Alma greets, surprised to see him back at home. “I thought you wanted to buy things for the house?”

“Yeah,” Scott replies, scratching his head. “I forgot what to buy.”

Alma scrutinises her youngest, who used to leave for Florida within a week of coming home. It has reached day 16 and he’s yet to return. _Huh. To leave, you mean._

“Why didn’t you make a list?”

“I did,” he replies quietly.

“What’s going on? And why are you shopping for your house? When would you have the time to work on it?” she says bluntly. ‘Why aren’t you back in Florida’ was what she really wanted to say.

“I will, mom. I mean, have plenty of time. Don’t worry about it.”

“When are you going back to Florida?”

It surprises Scott that Charlie keeps secrets pretty well. “Not anytime soon.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I broke up with Jackie.”

Alma’s face changes. While she might not be the one Alma had preferred as a potential daughter in-law, she’d welcome any woman Scott chooses to date, or maybe later, marry. _We’d cross the bridge when we get to it. And thank God it’s not anytime soon,_ she thinks, breathing easy, also feeling sad on behalf of her son.

“I’m sorry, Scott. Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, mom. It was a long time coming.”

“Still, I’m here if you want to vent a little.”

He runs a hand through his messy hair, and flashes her mother a reassuring smile. “Do you know that T got custody of Poppy? Casey entrusting his child to her is pretty big, eh?”

Alma’s eyes widen. “Really? Wow!” Then she smiles. “This will be good for the both of them. Poppy is very partial to Tessa and I know Tessa pampers her like her own child.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding. In another universe, he would be there to support Tessa in taking care of Poppy, giving them both his undivided attention. He’d send Poppy to school, maybe take turns to prepare her bento (they have both been to Japan enough times to adapt to this word), before returning for coffee and breakfast with Tess, who would still be in bed with her comforter wrapped around her like a burrito.

Unfortunately, that ship has long since sailed. Is it fair to wish it to fruition again? Or should he just say sayonara now, and face the new reality he had paved?

“Does this mean you’re staying, Scott?” His mother asks hesitantly.

He’s stumped. “I never left, mom.”

“You did, son. And I was not sure if you’d ever be back.”

* * *

“I ran into Tessa at the mall the other day.”

Charlie wipes the sweat off his forehead. It’s been awhile since he has to work on anybody’s front porch so it’s taking a toll on his heart rate. “Yeah? How is she?”

Scott shrugs. “She seemed fine. From her hiding point behind a row of vacuum cleaners.”

Charlie laughs, then falls silence at Scott’s non-reaction. “What?”

“She tried to hide from me.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

They continue working wordlessly. Charlie sort of runs out of supportive words to offer to his brother. “What are you working on now?”

Scott chuckles. “Do you think mom would hire me?”

“Well, you can try sucking up. That’s what you do best anyway,” Charlie teases. He knows Scott’s the favorite and he really doesn’t mind.

“She asked me if I was staying,” Scott says, aiming the nail on the hardwood for his stoop.

Charlie looks up to see his brother concentrating hard on pummelling the nail into the wood. “Ease up, bro. You’re gonna break the piece into two.”

His hammer stops midway, and Scott lets out an audible exhale. “Do you know how much it hurts that mom keeps on expecting me to leave?”

Charlie knows he could keep his mouth shut but that’s the mistake he isn’t about to repeat. “You did it to yourself, Scott. You did leave, without any words to any of us. Let alone the two most important people; mom and Tess. So don’t go around feeling like you’re the one hurting,” he starts, pointing his own hammer at Scott.

“Mom had to get used to you coming back once in a few weeks, and having you for just a few days before jetting off back to Florida. Sure, she was used to not having you around before, but the difference was, you in Canton and you in Montreal guaranteed your return. You in Florida? Who the fuck knows?”

“Whatever happened between you and Tessa, you chucked it out the window and skipped town the first opportunity available. To sweeten the deal, why not shack up with a married woman, who lives in another country, and could potentially be the cherry on top in your process of saying ‘fuck you’ to the person who had been there for you for the past two decades?”

“I know you were hurt. But instead of dealing about it like a fucking adult, you chose to ignore the problem and be on your merry way. So don’t blame mom for thinking you were not staying. You’ve become a bailer and that’s what you’re good at. Exhibit A: this fucking house,” he ends his narrative, swiping his free hand, gesturing to Scott’s dilapidated house, like Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune.

All the while, Scott has dropped down on the stoop, sitting mellow on his ass.

Charlie really does feel bad, but in the wise words of Bruce Springsteen, his brother really does have it long time coming.

“Oh, would you look at that?” he says, prompting Scott to raise his head from his pouting. “I’m gonna take five and pour myself a lemonade. It’s such a nice day, isn’t it?”

* * *

To say he’s shocked, he may have seen this coming. Maybe he has thought so frequently about it he has wished it into reality. He pinches himself once, and when Tessa is still stoically standing outside his front door, somehow his heart starts pounding.

“Hey, T. Come in,” he greets, opening the door.

“No, thank you. I took my chance that you’d still be in Canada, hence the stop,” she says. He kind of has an inkling on why she’s suddenly on his doorstep, after months of not stepping into Ilderton. “I know you’re busy. I won’t be long.”

“About that. Come on, T. I made lemonade,” he coaxes. “And I promise I won’t bring up you creeping behind a bunch of vacuum cleaners just to avoid me,” he attempts at teasing, a small smile on his face.

She looks at him with a blank face. “I just want to tell you, please don’t approach Poppy in her school without supervision, ever again. I don’t want to put your name on the restricted list, Scott.”

He’s taken aback. He knows it was a bad idea, but he was pretty fucking desperate. “There’s a restricted list?”

“Well, there’s gonna be one after the stunt that you pulled today. I already had to convince her to give Ronalee another chance. You pressuring her to talk to you was not helping.”

He breathes in deeply. “Tessa, I just wanted to apologise to her.”

“You talk to her when she’s with me. Her last experience with the likes of you and your hometown girls alone wasn’t really encouraging,” she says, clutching on her purse tightly. He recognises one of her defence mechanism; she clenches her fists.

“I’m sorry for Ron and Jackie’s words. And I’m sorry it left such a bad impact on Poppy.”

“Yeah. Well, let’s just leave it at that. I honestly don’t care what they say about me to other people, but if any of you traumatises my niece again, somebody will pay. Two decades of friendship notwithstanding.”

“I’m not gonna hurt Poppy, T. And I’m not going to say anything bad about you. Do you really think that way about me?” he asks, hurt that she could even think of it.

She stays quiet for a few seconds, before opening her mouth to answer. “What I think about you doesn’t matter.”

He couldn’t hide his hurt this time.

Her expression softens. “Look, I really hope we don’t come to this,” she waves her hand in the air, trying to come up with a word. “This impasse. I want you to be okay with Poppy, no matter what you think of me. But we gotta do it my way. She is after all, _my_ kin, _my_ niece, _my_ responsibility, and I can’t afford for you or your partner to influence her thoughts to go against me. I may trust you with her, but I definitely don’t when it comes to those you associate with. Just look at what your hometown girl and your girlfriend just pulled.”

“I told you Tess, I had no part in whatever Jackie spouted to Ronalee. And I have already told them both off.”

She’s quiet, not deeming him with a response.

“ _Please_ tell me you believe me.”

She gives him a wan smile. “If you want to visit with Poppy the next time you’re in town, you can drop me an email or something. I am no longer using the old number.” She then hitches her purse higher, taking a step back. Scott panics, not ready for her to leave. He takes a step forward, and she proceeds to back away.

“Don’t leave, T. We need to talk,” he pleads.

She shakes her head. “I think we’ve talked enough. Thanks for your time,” she replies, before hurrying off to her car.


	8. Chapter 8

Does she acknowledge the gesture? Or maybe just ignore. If only real life is as easy as pressing the ignore button to refuse update on the latest iOs of her iPad.

The book kind of put a damper on her day. She started out feeling hyped up, then fairly zen, and when the book dropped, zen went out the window.

She really hates feeling this way.

She wishes he could move to Florida and leave her and her family the hell alone. He did well for the past few months, staying so fucking far away in Florida and she has gotten through the whole grieving process and she is already in the acceptance stage that things would never be the same between them.

He could have just ignored her and gone on with his days as usual. But no, Mr. Bucket-of-rice had to gift her with a thoughtful present in conjunction with her venture into the world of crockpot mystery.

She stares at the offending book. The recipes look fairly simple, perfect for a novice like her. Does she try the recipe and be reminded of his gesture every single bite? Or does she bury the book in the lowest drawer of her kitchen cabinet, never to be seen in the light of day? Does she test her immunity toward her ex-skating partner, or does she nurse her hurt some more?

How can a mere cooking book trigger so much?

She chooses the latter and chucks the book into the bottom drawer.

* * *

Meeting with Tom is not going the way that she wanted.

“What do I do to gain leverage, Tom? Not to sound conceited, but I earn more than the both of them combined. I have a great house. Somewhat. I'll make it more colorful for Poppy. I work my own hours. My family is a complete support system of a wonderful grandma, a supportive aunt and a fun uncle. What else does the court want?”

“You need to provide her with stability.”

“I am the most stable I’ve been ever in my life!”

“Tessa, if they know that you’re seeing a therapist, you’re toast," Tom says, matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow, almost reprimanding. “I’ve told you, Tess. You know what you need to do. Have you told him?”

She averts his questioning gaze, embarrassed. “I don’t think we have to come to _that_. I’m banking on him flying off soon so it’d pass the six-week time frame.”

Tom gives her a disbelieving look. He shakes his head. “I defer from issuing a notice to him in respect _for_ you and your family. What I am doing is pretty much against the law, if he were to find out. You told me you’d get it _sorted_.”

“It will be, Tom.”

“How? I am still going to issue him a notification, and if you haven’t rectified the matter yourself by getting a signed testimony from him, that's not on me. You know my hands are pretty much tied.”

Tessa waves her hand dismissively. “Let’s not think about that. Come on, think of what is going to make me the most stable human being in the eye of the family court.”

Tom sighs. “I’ve told you that too. You’re lucky I’m not double billing you, not like you can’t afford me.”

Tessa snorts. “How is getting married going to solve the problem? Some of the married couples I know are even more unstable than I am. They fight over the smallest _things_. Living alone reduces the potential of domestic dispute. I don’t have to argue about mortgages, who to take out the garbage, whose turn to do the laundry. Hence, potentially reducing stress on my charge. Besides, most importantly, how the hell do I find a groom within short notice?”

“Are you serious?” Tom deadpans.

She narrows her eyes back at him. The bad thing about being friends with your lawyer, they offer you too much unsolicited advices. “Just for that I’m going to be swiping right multiple times tonight," she looks back petulantly.

“Yeah. Do that and if the McGuires find out you marry somebody off Tinder, say goodbye to Poppy.”

“I hate you, Tom.”

“No. You _love_ me. Now, scoot and go find yourself a husband.”

* * *

_TV: SOS_

_MR: State your emergency._

_TV: I need to find a husband._

_MR: …._

_MR: Why is it every time that I talk to you now you’re going to drop some sort of a bomb on me? First, it was Poppy. Now, a HUSBAND?_

_TV: I know. 2019 has been kind of weird so far._

_MR: Does it have to do with Poppy’s custody?_

_TV: Yeah. So, get to listing, baby. Enlist Paul’s help too, please._

“Aunt T?”

Tessa chucks her phone to the side and pats the empty side of her bed. “Hey, shrimp. Why aren’t you in bed?”

Poppy tosses her stuffed Kermit the Frog onto the bed before climbing on. “Can I talk to you?” she asks in all seriousness.

“Of course! Did something happen in school?” Tessa asks, her heart palpitating. Being a new mother increases her heart rate and agitation to exponential level.

The little girl settles comfortably under her comforter, hugging her stuffed toy tightly. She pulls on a stray thread from Kermit’s head. “Well, yes. Kinda.”

“Did you get upset again?”

Poppy tilts her head sideways, thinking. “I was for a while. But after that, I was okay.”

Tessa frowns. “What were you upset about, baby?”

“Uncle Scott came for a visit.”

Tessa takes in a sharp breath. “Did he now.” She scoots closer to her niece, opening her arms and Poppy snuggled in dutifully. “Do you want to tell me what you guys talked about?”

Poppy nods. “He said he doesn’t hate you and that his girlfriend lied.”

_Huh_. “Okay?”

“And he said you made him cry too sometimes.”

_What the fuck, Moir?_

“But he promised not to make you cry anymore.”

Tessa exhales. “He doesn’t make me cry, baby.”

Poppy directs an accusing look at her aunt. “You did. I saw you.”

Tessa is speechless. No point hiding anymore. She treads carefully. “I cried because I was sad.”

“Was he the one who made you sad?”

Tessa breaks into a soft smile. She runs a hand through Poppy’s thick hair, while another rubbing her niece’s back gently. “I’m sad with myself, Poppy. Sometimes, I do things and think of things that make me sad,” she tries to explain gently. "But I’m not sad anymore, Shrimp. I’ve got you and you make me the happiest.”

The little girl looks up with her bright green eyes. “Is it because you love me?”

Tessa nods, beaming. “You got that right, Shrimp. Moon and back.”

They stay that way, just breathing in each other’s scent, seeking comfort from the quietness of the house. Tessa is about to drift to sleep, lulled by Poppy’s powdery scent, when the little girl whispers.

“Aunt T?”

“Yes, Shrimp?”

“Don’t worry. Uncle Scott will make things right again.”

* * *

She’s still reeling from the conversation she had with Scott. She wonders why he wants to talk _now_ , when he was so good at running and ignoring things before.

“Do you think you made a mistake telling Scott to wait?”

She shrugs, offering Dr. Selva a smile. “I don’t know. He went away, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did. But maybe he wasn’t yours to begin with.”

“Oh, he was. Before and right after the Olympics, he was all up in my face, and my cooch, pardon me, showering me with attention which was never there for the past 20 years.”

“What did you think about it?”

“It felt weird. Overwhelming.”

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it. But I wasn’t sure if it was real.”

“Was that the reason you told him to wait?”

“Yes.” She looks down at her nails. She may be one half of the most decorated figure skater of all time, but she admits to needing constant reassurance. “I just need validation, whether he would still need me if we cool things off for a bit. Because it felt like too good to be true. The fairytale leading to and after the Olympics was surreal, at best.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because twenty years gave me enough time to learn his pattern. I was wary. Sure, I was his only constant, among others, so that might give me some kind of leverage. But looking at Sochi, where he just up and left me without any notice, because we were not fucking then. I was just curious, would he do the same this time around, if we were not physical with each other.”

“Are you saying he was around because of the physical connection only?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. He certainly fled and found another woman not two weeks after.”

“You’re looking for mental connection and empathy.”

“Yes. Because I thought he was different, and once and for all, I wanted him to be the last. The guys that I was with before, some know I like being pounded from behind. Others know I like riding them reverse. They don’t know what I aspire to be in five years. They don’t know if maybe one day I’d like to run for PM. Scott, he knows what I like for coffee, yes, because he used to bring me a cup before practice. My superstitions when I skate. And he tried to accommodate that. But beyond the rink, he doesn’t know me. And I wanted him too.”

“His action. Fleeing, you said, and dating again, what does that tell you?”

“That I’m not worth fighting for.”

The doctor stares at her, tilting her head to the side. “You’re looking at this from a singular angle, Tessa. What if it’s his modus operandi?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe that it is what it is, with him. Maybe he’s just a simpleton. Like everything has to be black or white with him. Different people holds a different meaning of a relationship and marriage. Some of us look for things that would make it last, to give it a strong foundation. Some find the very basic meaning of relationship is enough to fulfil them: a partner, sex, love, marriage, children. Scott might not even know that you want him to fight for you, because to him, if you guys are not in a defined romantic relationship, then you guys don’t have a relationship at all.”

“Whereas you require the connection of both mental and physical, maybe a certain act born out of love to acknowledge what you have between you. Your understanding of a relationship is definitely more complex, and although it is definitely not a bad thing, it is not something that all manage to see.”

“You both are in different spectrum of romance, you see things while weighing its possible pros and cons, calculating your next move in order to avoid potential disaster. Scott sees things with certain clarity, he wants what he wants, and if he doesn’t get it a certain way, he tries the next way. In other words, you both are two totally different individuals, and while that might not mean anything, but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t think you’re not worth fighting for.”

“But he might,” she reminds the good doctor petulantly.

Dr. Selva’s eyes soften. “Yes, but he might. But one failed relationship _shouldn’t_ define what you are. One man’s thought about you is not necessarily similar to the next man."

She ponders on her doctor’s wording. If it has taken next to nothing for him to put his mind together and moved on from her, about time _she_ makes the same effort to move on from _him_.

“You are going to be okay, Tessa.”

She smiles. Finally, she’s feeling that she IS going to be fine. “I know I am.”


	9. Chapter 9

He watches as the two burst out laughing from the fall. He swipes out his phone and presses record to capture the precious moment.

He had an audition with a junior team this morning. It’s been a week since his conversation with Charlie and he is trying to line things up together. Get his house done. Put out word about him being based in London/Ilderton. See maybe expanding the shop to Kitchener.

He got wind of the two skating on Fridays after 4 pm. So after the audition this afternoon, he stays back, puttering around, trying to work out the logistics with the admin. The moment he hears her laughter, his head snaps up. She has her hair up in her signature topknot, while her mini version has her helmet on, pigtails showing. The two look so heartbreakingly adorable, and it passes through his mind, what if they were his?

He would be the proudest father, and husband.

He shakes his head. He has to stop. Stop dreaming. Stop hoping and wishing. _You have no right. But then, why the hell are you waiting for them here?_

“How about we stay here on the ice for awhile?” he hears her asking her niece, who is lying directly on top of her.

The little girl giggles. “I know it’s very hot outside, aunt T, but you cannot sleep on the ice!”

“It’s not that, my bum hurts when we fell just now,” she replies, he could almost imagine the pout.

“I’m sorry I pulled you along to fall with me, aunt T.”

“Shrimp,” she begins, hugging her niece tighter to her chest. “What’s the point of having me around if I can’t break your fall?”

The words resonate in his brain. He wasn’t around to break her fall then.

“Uncle Scott?”

His heart jumps to his throat.

Tessa scrambles to her feet, stabilising Poppy on hers at the same time. She looks up to see him, a surprised look on her face.

“Hey, T. Hey, Pops,” he greets shyly, tucking his phone into his pocket.

“Hi, Scott,” she replies, her eyes questioning. “Why are you here?”

“I had an audition with a junior team this afternoon. Was about to leave when I saw you guys came in.” A little white lie won’t hurt.

Her eyebrows hike to her hairline. “You’re auditioning?” He could almost hear the wheels in her brain turning. “You’re staying?” she asks again, and he loathes that it sounds like she is almost wary.

“What do you mean? I never left.”

He believes he heard a _‘yeah, right’_ , but he decides to ignore it. Then her eyes flicker with realisation. “Oh. _Oh_!”

Scott witnesses a full myriad of expression fleeting on her face. Realisation, wariness, contemplation, and eventually, she settles with ambivalence. Poppy by her side tugs gently on her hand, and she snaps out of her reverie.

_She’s thinking Jackie is moving back_ , he concludes in dismay.

She flashes him a smile, and he’s relieved that it’s genuine. No matter what happens in between them, he knows she’d always be his biggest supporter. “That’s great, Scott.”

“Maybe I can entice you to choreograph together someday?”

She raises an eyebrow, reminding him of their parting ways.

“You’re gonna stay, Uncle Scott?” Poppy chirps in.

He beams with relief. At least there’s somebody who’s excited that he’s staying. “Yeah, Pops! Maybe we could skate together?”

She looks up at her aunt, seeking permission. “Can I, aunt T?” No longer jumping at the chance to be with him. Small steps, Scott.

Tessa’s lips curve into a lukewarm smile. “Sure.”

Scott breathes in to steady his nerve. “Why don’t we all skate together?” Please?

“Nah. I’m gonna sit this one out. My bum is still sore,” she replies, laughing dismissively. She bends down to mess with Poppy’s helmet a bit before gently releasing her to Scott. “I’m just gonna sit at the stand, ok? You’ll be fine with Uncle Scott.”

He mouths ‘thank you’ to her, to which she waves off with another smile.

One day she’ll agree to skating together again. He just has to try harder.

* * *

“How is it going, Pops?” he asks casually as the two of them skate side by side on the ice.

The little girl shrugs. “It’s okay. We had end-of-school party yesterday. Aunt T baked chocolate muffins. They were _so_ good.”

Scott’s eyes widen. T and baking didn’t use to go in the same sentence. “Really? Do you have any left?”

Poppy shakes her head vigorously, her pigtails swaying. “Nope. They were so good, my friends loved them so much, they were gone within 10 minutes,” she says excitedly. “Even Mrs. Lindt said they were very good.”

Finally, the state-of-the-art kitchen is put to good use, he thinks, chuckling. He knows Poppy being around is enough incentive for Tessa to start going into the kitchen. He looks up to see the woman in question listening intently to a junior skater, who is perhaps trying to pick her brain about something.

Now, if only she would spare him the same gesture.

He sighs.

“What’s your plan tomorrow, Poppy? Are you both doing anything special?” he inquires casually. Who knows, he may drop some suggestions to hang out together. _Casually_.

“I’m going to be staying with Aunt Jo in the morning. Aunt T is going for coffee. Aunt Jo says she’s in the quest of finding me another uncle.”

Scott stops skating abruptly. “What did you say?”

“ _Quest_. Aunt Jo said something about quest,” she repeats, stopping alongside him. She looks up with those big green eyes innocently at him. “What is ‘quest’, Uncle Scott? And why do I need another uncle?”

He grapples for words as he slits his eyes furiously at his partner of 22 years. “Quest is like a hunt. And honestly, Poppy, between you and I, you don’t need another uncle.”

Poppy shrugs. She tries to twirl on her blades while holding tightly on Scott’s pants. “I don’t mind. As long as he’s nice,” she says breezily. “Maybe this uncle will be friends with Aunt T.”

“Come _on_ , Pops,” Scott grouses. “I am Aunt T’s best friend, and I am the best uncle around. Why do you think you need another one?”

Poppy frowns. “Jeez, Uncle Scott. I’m just saying, if he is nice, why not? Maybe he would buy me that doll house Aunt T said she’d buy for Christmas. Do you know how far away Christmas is? It’s practically on the _last_ page of the calendar.”

Scott refrains from snort-laughing. Leave it to Poppy to think of mutual benefit from her aunt’s possible new relationship.

“If I buy you the doll house, can we agree that you don’t need a new uncle?”

She narrows her eyes, contemplating her decisions. “You know, he’s going to be _my_ new uncle, not yours. Why are you so grumpy about it?”

_She’s right, Scott._ “Because I don’t want to share you!”

Poppy breaks into a grin. “Aww, Uncle Scott. Aunt T said our heart is big so we can share it with a lot of new people. But it doesn’t mean you love your old family and friends any less.”

_Damn you, T._ “Come on, Pops. I already have to share Q and Charlotte. I don’t want to share you too,” he whines.

The little girl sighs dramatically. “What do you want me to do, Uncle Scott? Tell Aunt T not to go for coffee?”

That’s not a bad idea. “I’ve got a better idea.”

* * *

“I don’t know, Scott,” Tessa looks at him doubtfully. She doesn’t look too enthusiastic to see Poppy on his piggyback. Amy, the junior skater who was talking to her though, looks so positively charmed.

“But I wanna go to the zoo with Q and Uncle Scott!”

“We talked about this, Shrimp,” Tessa says soothingly. “You’re staying with Aunt Jo tomorrow. Imagine how disappointed she would be if you are going elsewhere.”

“I can talk to Jo. I’ve been meaning to talk to her,” Scott add, shrugging.

“Been meaning to talk to her? What for?” Tessa asks, confused. Scott and Jordan haven’t exactly been on talking terms. Well, not since WOF.

“Relax, T,” he says gently, fully aware of how Amy is eavesdropping on their conversation. He also noticed her snapping a candid photo of the three of them together.

Tessa catches his meaning and nods, looking at both him and Poppy warily. She does want them to get along, but she doesn’t want herself to be pulled along. She sighs. “Okay. You can drop by and talk to Jo tomorrow. She’s here for the weekend.”

“Is Tobin with her?”

“Not too sure. He might be coming along,” she replies, shrugging.

“And where would you be?” he asks, fishing.

“Out,” she replies, no elaboration.

That evening, Scott smirks as he taps on the ‘heart’ button on Amy Lewis’ Instagram update of the candid photo. At the bottom of the photo, there’s a caption that is quickly growing on him: _#momndad_.

* * *

“So, you’re back?” Jordan looks at him skeptically.

She is not giving him an easy time, of course.

“I never left, Jordan,” he reiterates, for the 3.2 billionth time, since the past one week.

The woman rolls her eyes. She flicks her eyes to the two girls playing tag on the grass. “Using your niece as your wingman is kinda low, even for you, isn’t it, Moir?”

He blushes, scratching his head. He could never hide anything for Jordan. She is like the big sister no boys ever want. Sometimes. Sometimes she might be pretty cool. Especially if he is on her good side. However, lately, he is pretty much in the dog house, so he is treading the waters cautiously.

“I just want to do something nice for Poppy and Q. The past few weeks has been quite shitty. I can’t apologise enough,” he says, his hands messing with his Leafs hat.

Jordan nods. “Yep. Poppy told me about it. Tell your girl to stay in her lane if she’s back here though.”

“We broke up,” he mumbles.

She stares at him, shocked. Then she laughs, but it isn’t a pretty laugh. “Oh-ho! Now everything begins to make sense!” she mocks.

“What?” he asks warily.

Jordan stops laughing. She gives him a stern look. “She doesn’t need this from you anymore, Scott. You guys are _done_. You left. You can’t expect for things to be the way they were before you left.”

“I know, Jo. I fucking _know_ that.”

“Then, you don’t have to, I don’t know, put so much effort here. I don’t give a shit anymore on what happened in November. Yeah, what you pulled was shitty, but Tessa got over it, and so did I. I don’t need you to make peace with me. Because honestly I don’t care anymore,” Jordan says bluntly.

“But I do, okay? I know I reacted badly, made some shitty decision, I shouldn’t bring her that night, and I do care about what you think. You’re like a sister to me, Jo. Not talking to you killed me. We were in pretty bad situations before, but you _never_ stopped talking to me for months on end,” he rants in a low voice, fully aware of young ears around them.

Jordan’s frown drops. Her face softens. “What do you want me to do, Scott?”

He shrugs, looking down at his feet. “Stop being mad at me, for a start.”

“I don’t know, Scott.”

“I’d do anything, Jo.”

She scrutinises him. “Can you promise to leave her alone?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Would he do it?


	10. Chapter 10

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Tessa gushes. “He’s _gorgeous_.” So gorgeous she could break into a T. Swift's song, she sighs dreamily.

Midori’s smirk could actually be felt through the phone. “What did I tell you?”

“I know,” Tessa grumbles. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“Those blue eyes must have won you over, eh?”

She shrugs, feeling a blush creeping on her cheeks. “Well, that too. But it’s just the way he is, you know? He doesn’t hog the conversation, and he listens.” Then she smiles thinking about his eyes, damn, she could drown in those ocean blue eyes. And the rugged blonde five o’clock shadow… The biceps…

“Helloooooo?”

Tessa snaps out of her daydream, thankful she is not on videocall with Midori. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was asking, are you guys going to meet again?”

“Yeah?” she says, not certain. _He did say he’s going to call you, Tess. What are you unsure about?_

What if he said it only to placate me? What if he listened just because he was bored of the topic?

He seemed genuinely interested. _Stop it._

_You know you were put on read by a guy before. Don’t be too excited._

“Tess?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you sound so uncertain?”

She pauses. “Because I’m not too sure?” she replies cautiously.

“Why? I thought you like him?”

She sighs. What’s not to like? Tall, piercing ocean blue eyes, the husky voice, and _so so humble_. “I do, but what if he doesn’t like me?”

“Tess, if that subtle kiss at the angle of your lip doesn’t tell you he likes you, I don’t know what does,” Midori deadpans.

She grins, blushing again.

“Come on, girl. You’re Tessa freaking Virtue. You’d think any guy would pass the opportunity to date you?”

The silence is deafening.

“Fuck, TESSA JANE VIRTUE! SNAP OUT OF THAT FUNK.”

Midori’s holler does its intended job. She could hear her huffing from the other end. “Dammit, Tess. Here’s a goddamn Adonis, so fucking eager to meet you again, and you still think you’re not dateable?” Midori chastises.

“It’s not that, Dori,” she mumbles, cupping her forehead. She remembers the conversation with Dr. Selva, and feels reassured. “It’s just… sometimes it hits me in phases of how easily I was pushed aside and replaced. Maybe it’s not even me, maybe the both of them are meant to be, and it sucked how it happened so quickly, but who am I to be sad about it? But I shouldn’t dwell on that. It just… it takes time to get that.”

“Oh, honey…”

Tessa chuckles. “Hey, none of that. Please, give me all your tough love. I need to kick this habit to the curb.”

“You know I’m down with that. You’re gonna be getting all the tough love from me.”

“I know. I love you for that,” Tessa says quietly. “Well, I should let you go. One of us has to go into work at nine tomorrow,” she teases.

“Don’t remind me, bitch,” Midori grumbles. “I love you, T. Talk tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Love you too.”

She hangs up and about to toss the phone onto her night stand when she realises there’s an unread e-mail.

From Scott.

She opens the e-mail warily, noted that it made it into her inbox at 00:07, 2 minutes ago. What is he doing e-mailing her at midnight?

Then she remembers telling him to email her if he wants to get in contact with Poppy.

_SM: Hey. How was your day?_

_Really, Scott?_

She knows Poppy had a good time with him and Q. By the time she made it back home, Poppy already left with him to the zoo.

She looks at the time again. 00:10. She turns off the phone and tosses it on the dresser.

She’ll answer him tomorrow.

* * *

“Sooooooo.”

“What.”

“Tell me about the date.”

“It wasn’t a date. It was just coffee.”

Jordan snorts. “Must be some very good coffee.”

“It was.”

They scrutinise each other before breaking into laughter. “Oh my God, Jo, he’s so hot. Like Abercrombie & Fitch hot.”

“Get _out_! You lucky bitch! I need deets. Did you sneak in a photo?”

Tessa rolls her eyes. “I’m not a creep like you, who pretends to check her phone but actually taking a photo of her date for her friends to rate. That was so uncool, by the way.”

Jordan rolls her eyes. “That was only once and he was a douche. He deserved to be rated.” Then she claps excitedly. “You said he’s an emergency doctor at Mission, didn’t you? I’m gonna look him up on LinkedIn,” she says, already typing on her phone.

“Oooohhh, you can do that?” Tessa asks excitedly, peeping over her sister’s shoulder.

Jordan laughs. “Yes, sis. I understand not many ice dancers or Olympic medalists are listed on LinkedIn, but have you really not heard of it before? I feel so white collar and decidedly boring.”

“At least you have stability in your life. I took a great chance with mine, being involved in a sports that doesn’t guarantee anything. I’m just lucky it paid off,” Tessa explains. “I’m not even sure what I would be if I wasn’t skating,” she wonders.

“Maybe you’d be a ballerina. Remember how you turned the NBC down two times?”

Tessa flashes a small smile to her sister. She does remember, indeed. What would it be like if she hadn’t met one Scott Moir of Ilderton, and stopped skating altogether at the tender age of seven? Would she be as successful as a ballerina? She would still have to endure the compartment syndrome, and might still need to undergo operation for it, but how would she cope?

Especially alone, in such a competitive, plastic world? At least, she did have Scott to turn to.

_Remember how you didn’t have him for two months?_

She sighs. She’s not going there anymore. He had apologised. They went on to win 5 medals, for God’s sake. No matter how messy it is personally, he was a great partner on ice, something she shouldn’t begrudge him with.

“Samuel Harwood, Emergency Doctor, Mission Hospital, London. Fuck, T, he’s SIZZLING hot. I want to lick that jaw,” Jordan mutters, scrutinising her phone closely. “How did your panties stay dry with that kind of face staring back at you? Like, I can’t even,” she says, fanning herself.

Tessa’s face flames up.

“Like a mix of Alex Pettyfer circa Magic Mike, which is _very_ yum,” she continues, sighing. “You owe Midori a bouquet of some expensive tulip bulbs or something. Or a lifetime gift certificate to Sephora. She did very well and deserves to be rewarded.”

Tessa laughs. The way that Jordan is commending Midori sounds like as if her best friend had invented the flu vaccine.

“What. I’m speaking the truth. And as a sister, I’d like to advise you to totally bang that, six ways to Saturday, even if he leaves you on read. But he doesn’t look like the type, so more power to you, sister!”

“I may want to know if he has any contractable diseases before I bang him, as you so eloquently put, because with a face and body like that, I’m sure he has sparked joy in the hearts, or vaginas of many women. Or maybe men.”

Jordan rolls her eyes. “You’re nasty.”

“I’m practical,” Tessa replies, defensive.

“He’s a doctor, T. I’m sure he puts his raincoat on,” Jordan says, rolling her eyes.

“ _You’re_ nasty. Besides, I’m a mother now. We met with the intention of having something serious. Midori made him aware of that.”

Jordan’s face softens. “Damn it, Tess. You’re the little sister. I wish you could make less sense sometimes. It’s exactly why Casey and Megan chose you.”

Tessa bites her lip. “I doubt myself every single day. I analyse each decisions to death. It’s not exactly healthy, Jo. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I’ve overstepped you and Kevin-.”

“What are you talking about, Shrimp? Yes, it came as a shock, but Casey’s explanation was perfectly logical, and the fact that he could read us like a book it’s crazy. There we were thinking that he was just this patronising asshole who left to school early on days he had to take out the garbage. Remember when he had control to mom’s car keys? My God, I didn’t miss begging him for a ride to the mall,” Jordan says, rolling her eyes.

Tessa laughs. High school Casey always made it perfectly clear on who was in charge.

“He wrote that he knew how I was not complacent, and he knew that I was still not finished with my pursuit of finding the peak of my career. And he didn’t want me to be bogged down with children. It didn’t mean he didn’t trust me with Poppy. He just meant, out of the three of us, you’re the most settled, as you have found direction, you have reached the ultimate purpose in your life. Although it might not seem that way to you, trust me, baby sis, I envy how you have achieved your level of success. And I say this fondly, be happy, lil sis. Kevin and I, we are so happy for you, and we promise, we don’t have any ill thoughts about you.”

Tessa’s bottom lip wobbles, her eyes glassy.

“Hey, I just preached on how incredibly mature and successful you are and here you are, starting to bawl?” Jordan jokes, her own eyes watery.

“I don’t care. I’m always going to be the baby of the house. And that gives me the rights to cry any time that I want,” Tessa replies petulantly, already reaching out to hug her sister. Jordan engulfs her in a strong embrace, and the two girls started laughing and reminiscing about Casey and Megan.

The sudden crash coming from upstairs break them both apart. Tessa exchanges look with her sister.

“Poppy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry...


	11. Chapter 11

“How’s Poppy?”

She stares at him, frowning. Her tear-streak face is breaking his heart. “How did you know?”

“Charlie called me. He saw you entering the emergency room.”

She cups her forehead, leaning against the wall. She honestly didn’t recall running into Charlie in the midst of her panic. But it’s understandable, as a paramedic, he is always around the emergency department. “Oh.” She feels the energy draining from her body. The past two hours, she was functioning on pure adrenaline. “She’s in the procedure room. It’s this thing called greenstick fracture? Not fully through and through but needs to be casted?”

He lowers his body onto the seat next to hers. He hesitates before putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, T. You should have called me.”

She just gives him a ‘what the hell are you talking about’ face and looks away. Not lying, it hurts to the fucking core. He’s just grateful she doesn’t deign his statement with a snide remark.

They sit side by side, minutes passing by.

“How did you get in?” she asks suddenly, curious.

He looks at her sheepishly. “I told them I’m your fiance.”

Her eyes widened. “What the hell, Scott!” she scolds, her frown deepening. “You can’t say shit like that! You don’t know how much word gets around in this town. I got enough shit as it is to deal with on the internet, I don’t need you to fuel the fire!”

Stunned, Scott holds up his arms, trying to make her stand down. “Chill out, T. I don’t think it’s going to get out.”

Her face falls, apologetic. She leans back against the wall, releasing a long exhale. “I’m sorry to burst on you like that. But last year was bad enough. I’m not ready to deal with all that drama. I need to take care of my reputation for the custody hearing. I can’t afford for people to start calling me home wrecker again,” she confesses.

“Jesus. You’re not a home wrecker, okay?”

She looks up, and gives him a long inquisitive look.

“What?”

She shakes her head, looking in another direction.

He looks on at her guiltily. He admits to dropping off totally from social media late last year til early this year. It was all because of a few nasty comments on Jackie on his Instagram and Twitter. He wasn’t on social media much to begin with. Tessa didn’t complain and continue promoting their brand on his behalf.

The eve of their gold medal anniversary, Tessa hinted for him to post something, but added ‘no pressure’ at the end of the sentence, but he obliged.

That too ended with him getting backlashes for not thanking Tessa enough.

He couldn’t seem to win those days.

And not winning any time soon, apparently.

“Come on, T. I just blurted it out because they said only relatives are allowed inside,” he tries to reason.

Tessa purses her lips. Her eyes are elsewhere, never settled on him. “Just, don’t do it again.”

He sighs. “Fine.”

* * *

“Miss Virtue? I’m Doctor Harwood, Poppy’s doctor.”

Tessa rubs her eyes and blinks them open. Blonde, six-foot something with the bluest eyes are staring down at her. She promptly stands up, ignoring the ‘ouch’ that comes from her neighbor from letting his head fall against the wall.

She could feel her cheeks flaming up. Jesus. The eyes. “Yep, that’s me,” she says, trying to tamp down her smile.

The good doctor, still in scrubs, grins cheekily and nods to the man sitting next to her. “And your partner, I presume?”

She shakes her head, a little too quickly she feels dizzy. “Uh, he’s my, uh, colleague. Mr. Moir.”

Said friend finally stands up and offers a hand to the doctor. “Scott Moir, her partner and _colleague_. How’s Poppy, doctor?”

Tessa ignores the subtle jibe from Scott.

“I’m glad to tell you that Poppy went through her procedure extremely well. Her vitals look good, her bones have been set and for now she’s in a cast. She is in recovery from the anaesthesia and the both of you can wait for her there,” Dr. Harwood explains.

Tessa breathes out a sigh of relief. “Will there be any permanent damage, Dr. Harwood?”

“No. Greenstick fracture is pretty common in children. The swelling from the bone reduction looks minimal and we’re going to remove the cast in a few weeks once the bones have begun healing. All in all, it would take around six to eight weeks to recover and then she’ll be as good as new.”

Scott observes the shy smile from Tessa and how Dr. Harwood is looking at her in a way that says that they have met before.

“Didn’t think I would run into you again so soon,” Dr. Harwood adds, smiling good-naturedly. “She’s an adorable girl. Didn’t even cry a bit.”

Oh. They _have_ met before.

“So, when can she be discharged, doctor?” Scott says, a bit impatiently, as he tries to make the two realise his existence. Tessa blushes and pulls back, and it makes him irrationally mad.

“Maybe another hour or two. Just to let the anaesthesia effect wear off a bit. Paeds ortho will see her again in two weeks with another x-ray to see her healing process,” Dr. Harwood explains, looking intently at Scott.

“Thank you, Sam,” Tessa says softly.

“My job, Tess. I’ll let the both of you in to see her.”

Scott pauses as he allows Tessa to pass before him. He watches as the doctor opens the door for her, motioning her inside. The two exchange glances and secretive smiles.  
They sit facing each other by Poppy’s bed, one hand for each adult. The little girl is knocked out still, her left forearm wrapped in a pink fibreglass cast. Tessa squeezes her little fingers in relief, finally feeling her own heart beat slowing down.

She looks up to face the man sitting in front of her, who is lifting Poppy’s good hand and giving it a kiss.

“Jordan is coming back soon with clothes and food so you don’t have to stay, Scott,” Tessa says softly.

Scott sighs. “I know I was an asshole, but come on, T.”

“I didn’t mean anything bad about it,” she replies quietly.

He stares at her, and knows that she means it.

It hurts that she doesn’t see him as someone she can depend on anymore.

“You didn’t reply my email,” he says abruptly, then kicks himself. _Not really a very important topic now, is it?_

“I’m sorry. I thought about replying first thing this morning, then I had a chat with Jo when Poppy fell. The rest is, well,” she answers, gesturing to the patient in between them.

Scott nods. So she did read his mail, just thought that it wasn’t important enough to reply promptly. Well, it wasn’t, but this time last year, she would have picked up the phone and they would be talking well into early morning.

“How did Poppy fall?”

Tessa sighs, running a hand through her niece’s hair. “She saw a butterfly perched on the cupboard and pulled a chair to try to catch it.”

Scott cringes. “I might have a hand in that.”

Tessa frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I taught her and Q how to catch butterflies yesterday,” he confesses, looking at Poppy’s hand in his. “Sorry, T.”

Tessa’s face softens. She reaches over to pat his hand consolingly. “It’s not your fault, Scott. But these butterflies are not meant to be caught, you know that, right? They are meant to be free.”

“They are too beautiful, sometimes you can’t resist,” he says, looking intently into her eyes. He contemplates a few seconds before continuing. “But I know that now. They are meant to be free, but I could still admire them from afar.”

* * *

Scott closes the door behind him, resigned and a bit bummed. He just returned from sending the two Virtue ladies home, after telling Jordan to stay put. No invitation inside for coffee or anything else since Poppy was still drowsy.

_Or maybe because she did tell you to stop coming around?_

_That was before he made up with Poppy, right? He’s welcome to be around now, right?_

He smiles at the memory of Poppy recognising him when she first opened her eyes earlier. The little girl with brilliant eyes beamed so big, her eyes glassy due to the lingering effect of anaesthesia.

_“I tried to catch a butterfly this morning, Unca Scott!” she had whispered excitedly, slurring a bit. Then frowning, she continued, “but I fell and hurt my left arm. And I made Aunt T cried.”_

_“You did, Shrimp. She loves you so she doesn’t want you to get hurt. And you know you were not supposed to climb anything without any adults around,” Scott said soothingly, squeezing the little fingers gently._

He drops his keys into the porcelain bowl by the door, noticing a bunch of letters addressed to him set on the side. He heads to the kitchen, grabs a mug and pours himself some coffee.

He goes through the letters and separates them into piles. One envelope in particular sparks his interest and he tears through it, slightly wary since the return address is to a lawyer’s office downtown.

He scans the letter, impatient to get to the bottom of it. A few words stand out: _Poppy Alana Virtue_ , _Tessa Jane Virtue_ and ultimately, _shared custody_.

His heart stops. Then restarts again.

Sadness. Betrayal. Anger. Then slowly, _hope_ blooms in his thoughts.

He leaves his mugs and goes off to grab his car keys again. He needs to have some word with his _colleague_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not going to be smooth sailing, I have to say. Please send prayers their way.

“Tessa Jane Virtue! Open the fucking door!”

Tessa groans. She was just about to fall asleep when she hears the banging on the front door. She swings the front door open. She swears he just left their house not one hour ago. “What the hell, Scott? Poppy is still sleeping! What did I supposedly do now?”

He shoves a letter into her face, marked Reid & Associates. The blood drained from her face.

“When the hell were you planning to tell me about this?” He demands angrily.

She pushes against him and steps outside, closing the door behind her. She rubs her face, tired of the fucking drama in her life. She looks up, breathing deeply, preparing for another verbal duel with Scott. It looks like it’s the only way they communicate lately. “They wrote the will back in April last year, when we were still a whatever and ‘a sure thing’. We broke up. Consider it cancelled,” she explains listlessly. _Consider you cancelled_ , she wants to say.

He exhales, trying to calm down. “You can’t _cancel_ a will, Tess.”

“Don’t worry about it. Nobody knows and nobody holds you liable. Just ignore the notice. If you want, we can draw up something stating you relinquish all rights of Poppy to me. Since you’re not blood related, it’d be breezy. I’ll put in the paperwork tomorrow.”

He looks like he wants to throttle her neck. “ _Thanks for weighing in_ but let me handle my business for once,” he replies sarcastically, giving her the taste of her own medicine.

Tessa leans against the railing, exasperated. “I’m trying to make things easier for you. I told you I’d handle it. You don’t have to be snippy.”

“I don’t need you to handle it for me! You’ve meddled enough. I wouldn’t even know about the will if the lawyer didn’t deign me with a notice,” Scott retorts.

“What do you want me to do, Scott?” Tessa explodes. “Don’t you think it’s embarrassing enough for me that my EX-BOYFRIEND is named in my deceased brother’s will as a co-legal guardian of my niece? When he said that he needed to take your name out of his will I generally thought he was kidding! I didn’t tell him to put your name there. And I didn’t tell you because this is the _exact_ response I didn’t want to deal with. I understand how this is so fucking complicated and you don’t want any hand in this, so trust me when I say that I’m working on it.”

He takes a step back, his hands in fists, clearly incensed with her. “I told you to stop making decisions for me! Casey and Megan named me in their will for a reason, and I want to exercise my right to make sure I can fulfil it. And I broke up with _you_ , not with Poppy!”

Tessa looks taken aback. A flash of hurt crosses her face. “She’s _my_ niece, not yours. You don’t have to ‘exercise your right’. Do you even want her? I’m giving you an easy out. Sleep on it and forget about it, Scott. Better yet, go back to Florida and forget the damn letter!”

_So much for not being bitter, Tessa._

“How could you say I didn’t want her?” He barks, his octave rising.

_Because you didn’t want her aunt_ was what she wanted to shout back.

“Please don’t do this because you want to get back at me,” she begs, lowering her voice. “I’d do anything.”

He shakes his head, turning away from him. Disappointment clear on his face. “How could you think of me that way, Tess?” he replies, hurt, dropping his voice too.

She averts her gaze, trying her best to stop the tears on the verge of falling. “This was supposed to be a clean break,” she mumbles.

“Stop making it about us, Tess. It’s about Poppy and I. You are being unfair and cruel. I deserve to know that Casey and Megan had entrusted their child under my care.”

A blow to the head would be much less painful, Tessa thinks.

“Are you telling me if the roles were reversed, if maybe Charlie or Danny named you in their will to become the legal guardian of their kids, you would relinquish your rights on them, just because you and I aren’t together anymore?” he continues, raising an eyebrow in question.

Her shoulders drop. She refuses to meet his eyes, and ignores the pain stabbing at her heart.

Scott shoots another look at the closed door, perhaps hoping for it to open with Poppy bouncing out, yelling his name. He takes a step back down the porch, needing to get away, before he hurts the woman in front of him any further. “I’m meeting Tom tomorrow. We’ll discuss more after my meeting with him.”

No movement on her side to acknowledge him.

“For your sake, Tess, I hope Alma would spare you if she ever found out how you hid this from me,” he speaks, his voice low.

Shit has hit the fan. Shit has _really_ hit the fan.

* * *

Tessa sighs as she peeks through her peephole. Scott is really playing dirty. She dreads the lecture that is looming. She loves Alma like she’s her own mother, she is ready to do _anything_ to please the woman. Never in her wildest dreams she wants to disappoint the gentle human that has helped shape and taken care of her for the past two decades.

She opens the door and readies a wary smile for Alma. “Hello,” she greets the mother and son.

Alma reaches an arm for a hug, the other holding on to a canvas bag. “Hello, dear. Hope we are not intruding.”

Tessa releases a relieved breath. “No! You’re always welcome here,” she says quickly, and doesn’t miss the subtle cough by her son. She ignores him and pulls Alma inside. “She’s in the living room, watching cartoon. Come in.”

“Hey, Tess.”

She acknowledges him with a nod. “Hey, Scott. Come in.”

“I made some chicken soup, I think it’ll be enough for at least a few days. And I made lasagna for dinner. I know both you and Poppy love my lasagna,” Alma says, handing the canvas bag to her.

Touched, she gives Alma another hug. “Thank you, Alma. Between you and my mother, I don’t have to lift a finger in the kitchen.”

“Ain’t that a good thing,” Scott jokes, grinning.

She lets out a half-hearted laugh, just to be polite, even though at her expense.

“Scott,” Alma chides her son.

Scott looks at Tessa apologetically, at which the woman shrugs. “Eh,” she says simply, looking away. Expecting him to be apologetic is a full waste of time. She walks through the living room, Oggy and the Cockroaches playing on the TV. “Look, Poppy, Granny Alma and Uncle Scott are here for a visit!”

The little girl’s face brightens as she puts up both casted and her good arms out for a hug. Scott rushes to the couch and tackles the girl, careful of her injured limb. “If it isn’t my favorite human!”

Poppy squeals. It warms her heart on how their interactions have switched one eighty since a few weeks ago and for that she is grateful. She feels the guilt gnawing for how she tried to keep Scott in the dark regarding the custody, but, how would it end? How long would their lives intertwine with his, when not long ago he was the one who stayed away?

Alma reaches up to peck lovingly at Poppy’s forehead, who is still safely ensconced within Scott’s arms. They exchange a few words, prompting a few more giggles from the little girl. Tessa decides to step into the kitchen, the canvas bag in tow, to start putting the food away in the freezer.

She works methodically, storing the food, replacing the containers brought by Alma. Then, she pulls out two mugs, pouring coffee in them, adding a splash of milk in Alma’s and two sugars in Scott’s. Opening up the oven, she takes out two banana muffins and arrange them in a plate.

“How are you holding up, sweetie?”

Tessa turns on her heels, flashing a smile to Alma. “I was scared to death when I first found her. Was that how you felt every time any of us fell down and hit the ice?”

Alma chuckles. “Something like that. But along the way, you toughen up because no matter how much you try to protect them, they would still end up injuring themselves,” she explains. She takes the mug held out by Tessa gratefully, smiling fondly at the woman. “I bet you cried,” she teases.

Tessa laughs. “You bet I did! I didn’t know what to do! Luckily Jordan was around to calm me down and she drove the both of us to the hospital.”

“You know, you could always call any of us if nobody’s around, Tess,” Alma reminds. “Which brings me to the news that Scott broke to me yesterday,” she continues, raising an eyebrow.

Tessa looks down at her feet, feeling shameful. _How did it come to this? Damn you, Casey. Why didn’t you make changing your will a priority?_

_Nobody could expect when they would be dying, Virtue. Stop talking nonsense._

“Casey wanted to change the will,” she blurts out, then regrets it immediately when she notices Alma’s face falls.

“Are you saying that Casey saw Scott unfit to be a parent to Poppy?”

Tessa immediately grabs at Alma’s hand. “No. Just the fact we, were, you know, not together anymore,” she rushes, gesturing wildly. “Alma, it wasn’t that Casey thought badly of Scott as a guardian, it’s just it would be awkward for anyone involved for him and I to be sharing custody of his little girl.”

Alma sighs, patting Tessa’s hand reassuringly. “I understand, dear girl. I know how this must be very peculiar for you, but I gotta tell you, Scott is very excited at the prospect of being Poppy’s legal guardian,” she says gently.

Tessa sighs. She knows she is being difficult, but she is an adult, who is capable of compartmentalising. So what if she needs to share Poppy for the next thirteen years with Scott and his girlfriend, future wife, or children?

“I am not worried about that. I admit to being wary about how other people in his life is going to accept Poppy,” she admits, looking down at her feet. “I don’t want them to shun her, just because she is related to me.”

Alma’s face softens. “You do know we the Moirs love Poppy like our own, right?”

Tessa smiles, a rueful one. She purses her lips.

“And I know what happened with Jackie and Ronalee, and I am _so_ sorry that it did, but I can reassure you it won’t happen again,” Alma vows, looking intently at Tessa.

Tessa admires how protective Alma sounds, and she is charmed by how idealistic the older woman is, but even Tessa knows Alma can’t guarantee that Poppy and herself would be free from future gossips. It’s just the way small town living is. You can’t shut everybody’s mouth.

Even the mouth of her future daughter in-law.

“Is that your only reservations with me being Poppy’s co-guardian?”

Both women turn to look at the man standing at the kitchen doorway. Tessa’s demeanour changes, as her smile drops and replaces with a stern countenance.

“You know I am going to be there for the both of you, no matter what,” he continues.

Alma scrutinises Tessa’s face. She doesn’t blame the younger woman if she is hesitant to show any reaction. Her youngest son is not known to hold to his promises. Especially lately.

Scott straightens, holding her gaze steady. They can hear Poppy cheering to the TV happily. “I know, all the shit that happened last year, how I messed up and pushed you away. I am sorry. And I know it’s not enough. You’ve been more than generous with me, forgiving me again and again, and I know how the last straw was so epically shitty, I wouldn’t even forgive myself. But you have to try, T. I love that little girl. And I feel fortunate that Casey and Megan had trusted me enough to be responsible for her, indirectly being responsible for you too. And I hope we can come to terms with the fact and start moving forward.”

Tessa looks away. She can feel Alma squeezing her hand in support. “I’ve forgiven you. And I am sorry too, for I play a part in whatever that was that drove you away. And I agree, it’s time that we move forward. I just have a few request though. We don’t talk about this anymore and you are only responsible for Poppy. You don’t have to concern yourself with me and my issues, and I promise to include you with every decision making concerning Poppy.”

Scott opens his mouth to argue, before closing up.

Tessa gives Alma’s cheek a peck and pulls away. “I need to check on Poppy. I shall bring the coffee and muffins to the living room.”

Mother and son watch as the woman walks away, hands full, literally and figuratively.

“She hates me,” he mutters.

Alma snorts. “She is programmed not to ever hate you. But you’re not exactly her favorite person right now,” she says. “You got a lot to work on, Scott. Maybe starting with yourself. After all, you’re about to be a father.”


	13. Chapter 13

“I ordered your usual.”

Tessa nods, granting him a small smile. “Thank you, Scott. How much do I owe you?”

He looks at her with slight exasperation. “Sit down, T.”

She obliges.

“They serve the best chocolate pie too.”

She raises an eyebrow, surprised.

“I read about it on Yelp,” he shrugs.

“You know about Yelp?” she asks, definitely surprised. Then she remembers he has a girlfriend who might care on where to get good food. She shrugs, not waiting for an answer. “It’s okay, I’m still pretty full,” she lies. Truthfully, she couldn’t stomach anything thinking about the conversation they are about to have.

Scott looks at her in mock horror. “You’re refusing chocolate? Who are you and what have you done to the real Tessa Virtue?”

She gives him a quick smile. “Still here. Just grown up.”

The speech sobers him up immediately.

“I made a list,” she starts, taking her signature notebook out onto the table.

He nods, sipping on his coffee. “I’m pretty sure you would.”

She ignores what she deems to be a jab at her. “First of all, how do we go about the custody? Second, the appropriate arrangement. Third, the best course of action regarding Poppy’s general being. Fourth, our limitations. And I’ll start with the custody, since I am her aunt, and since she is living with me, I am asking for full custody with generous visitation rights for you.”

Scott purses his lips. And nods, which surprises Tessa as she was positive he was going to give her a hard time, just because.

“Really?”

Scott shrugs. “Yeah. My house is barely done, definitely not a place for a five year-old. When I said I wanted to exercise my right as a co-guardian, I really meant what I said. I want to be a helping hand, not to take her away from you.”

She scrutinises his face.

“But make no mistake, I am going to fully abuse the generous visitation rights. So I am going to drop by anytime when I feel like it to see Poppy, and you can’t say no.”

“Not when she is sleeping,” she argues.

“Why not? I might want to tuck her in or check in on her. I am after all, going to play the role of a father figure for her,” he debates back.

“You have to remember that she lives with me, and I might not be up to entertain you in the middle of the night just because you want to tuck her in.”

Scott shrugs. “Then, it’s either that or I’ll have her some days.”

Tessa straightens her shoulders.

He looks at her straight on.

Her shoulders sag. She doesn’t want complication. She has enough in the form of the McGuires. Therefore a slight interference to her personal space should not be a big issue, she thinks.

“Fine.”

Scott nods, satisfied. He leans back against his chair, slightly more relaxed. “Second, the appropriate arrangement. Like I said, I don’t mind you having her all the time as long as I have visitation rights. However, I demand to be the first-line of backup in case you have to be out of town.”

Tessa frowns. She opens her mouth to rebut, but is interrupted by the waitress placing an order on their table. She looks down to see a piece of chocolate pie with two spoons placed at the centre of the table. “Uh, I’m sorry, but we didn’t order this?” she says apologetically to the girl.

The girl looks a little lost. “Table 7, one chocolate pie?”

“It’s mine,” Scott says, smiling. “Thank you.”

The girl grins and departs, before giving them a curt nod.

Tessa looks at the pie longingly.

“Tess?”

She snaps out of her stupor.

“You were saying?” Scott asks, smirking. He reaches for the spoon and digs into the chocolate pie.

“You don’t like chocolate,” she blurts.

Scott shrugs. “I can change my taste.”

Silence. She looks away. “You definitely can”, she replies.

Scott’s face falls. _She got it wrong, again._

_What do you expect, Scott?_

“You don’t have to worry, I won’t be going out of town anytime soon,” Tessa says, returning her focus to her notebook. “But I keep the offer in mind. However you must understand that Kate, Jordan and Kevin might want to have her sometimes.”

“I don’t agree with you putting your life on hold. I am here to help,” he says cautiously.

Tessa frowns again. “I’m not putting my life on hold. What are you talking about?”

“You cancelled attending so many talks and seminars. Your sponsors! You turned down a lot of offers this month. You’re the FitSpirit ambassador and you skipped out on so many engagements. This is not you, Tess.”

“I have Poppy now. Of course I need to cut down my hours and certain things.”

“Well, what I’m saying, Poppy is half mine too. You’re not the only one responsible for her now.”

Tessa counts to ten and takes one cleansing breath. “I’ll be better about sharing her, Scott. But you have to understand, you were an _extension_ of my life. I am a _part_ of her life. She’s accustomed to _me_. She accommodated to _you_ as an additional part of my life.”

“Well, now I am a part of her life now too, whether you like it or not. I’d like to see more of her. Ease a bit of your burden.”

“She’s not a burden, Scott,” she says quietly.

“I’m sorry, that was not what I meant. Come on, Tess. You know me,” he pleads.

She purses her lips. “And what I do or do not do, shouldn’t be any of your concern.”

Scott refrains from banging the table. “Of course it is. You’re my best friend. My co-guardian of Poppy. Your well being, your health, you in general, is my concern.”

She chuckles, looking away. “I wish you were this concerned a few months ago but wishes were horses,” she remarks, smiling gently at him. Her gaze flits to the chocolate pie, her resolve strengthening. In the years past, she might be tempted to dig in, to accept his peace offering.

“Anyway, let’s talk about school. Public or private? Medical insurance. Emergency contacts. All in all would take less than half an hour. Then we could get out of here soonish. I’m sure you have places to be,” she continues, rubbing her hands together, dismissing the topic altogether.

They talk for another twenty minutes, finalising details, the chocolate pie left untouched. Tessa is throwing things into her bag, and notices Scott looking at her hesitantly.

“Why don’t you take it to go? Alma loves chocolate pie. Maybe Jackie likes it too?” She quickly slings her bag on her shoulder before flashing him a brief smile. “Don’t worry, it’s on me. Sorry to dash, Scott. See you!”

He watches as she passes the cashier to drop a twenty dollar note with a quick thank you. Then she walks out the diner, and jogs quickly to the end of the street.

Scott sighs, and sits back against the chair. He has a long way to go. And he needs to tell her about Jackie soon.

His eyes catch sight of her beloved notebook lying on the floor by the chair she vacated.

Picking it up, Scott contemplates his choices. Does he go after her now, or does he drop by later?

She might need it, he decides. Although it will give him a solid excuse to drop by, he shouldn’t be selfish.

Tessa can’t live without her notebook, old fashioned that she is.

He jogs out to the footpath, noticing she is opening the door to a car he doesn’t recognise. A mustang, from the sixties. 

He almost pauses, but then urgency hits him and he quickens his jog.

He’s no peeping Tom, but he knows he shouldn’t feel this much pain seeing another couple making out in a car. A very nice car.

But the way Tessa slides her hand through that tousled blond hair and how she tilts her head to fit her lips against the man's is shattering Scott's heart into pieces.

And he’s not too sure if he didn’t deserve the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going out of town for a few days to visit a sick relative so update maybe scanty. My apologies... for this, and for the above.


	14. Chapter 14

There are things that come with certain clarity after her kiss with Sam:

1) she could definitely kiss him forever   
2) there are other men out there who could kiss and make her happy   
3) she feels so liberated and convinced, that she is going to be perfectly okay.

She loves the way he runs his hand through her hair and the way he cups her cheek so tenderly. She loves the feel of his stubbles against her chin and the way his lips pillow hers, and the gentle pressure he exerts with a hint of tongue so subtle but yet so promising.

She loves the way the deep growl emanates from his chest and the way he loses control slightly before pulling away gently, not at all refusing or letting her down, but silently telling her there is more to come on their own time.

“That was a lovely surprise,” he breathes, his blue eyes sparkling.

She giggles, her own heart slowing down and his reassuring smile. “I’m sorry I attacked you like that.” The moment she saw him, she just wanted to kiss him. 

He laughs. “That kind of attack is most definitely welcome,” he teases, voice low. He pushes a strand of her loose hair behind, his eyes affectionate. “How are you, Miss Virtue?”

The sudden tap on the glass window breaks the bubble they are in. Tessa turns in her seat to get a good look at the person standing outside.

“Scott?” she blurts, frowning. She looks over her shoulder at Sam, who is running a hand through his disheveled hair. He shrugs, giving her a gentle encouraging smile. “Maybe he forgot to say something?”

She opens the door and steps out. Scott’s face is unreadable. “Hey, anything wrong?” she asks, holding the door open.

Scott hands her her notebook while looking down at his feet. “You dropped this,” he mumbles.

Tessa slaps her forehead. In her haste, she must have accidentally dropped it. “Oh, thank you, Scott,” she says gratefully.

“I’ll see you at home,” he says, looking up suddenly, directly into her eyes. 

“Uh, Poppy won’t be back from Kate’s until later,” she says cautiously. She sees his eyes flicking to the man waiting in the car.

“I’ll see you at home _later_ then,” he amends, voice firm. Without waiting for her answer, he walks off, not looking over his shoulder.

* * *

It’s official, Dr. Samuel Harwood is an _excellent_ kisser.

She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, thankful for walking her up the short journey to her door. Dinner was lovely; he had brought her to a mom n’ pop Italian restaurant and they had sat at an isolated corner, talking for hours about everything and anything.

And they didn’t even talk once about skating, for which she is thankful.

She learns that he’s an orphan, with no immediate family left. He moved from New York after being board-certified in Emergency Medicine. London seems like a nice place to settle down, not too big, not too small. And running into a dark haired beauty with amazing green eyes is a bonus too, according to him.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

She laughs. “Are you kidding me? That was the most amazing and laidback dinner I had with another adult in a while. The food was excellent. The company was even better,” she replies giving his hand another squeeze.

“I’m glad,” he says, smiling down at her. He leans down to gently peck on her forehead and Tessa’s heart sets aflutter.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, trying to quiet the hammering of her heart.

A throat clearing shifts their attention to her front stoop, where a shadow is sitting on her swing set.

“Scott?”

“Me again,” came the reply from the shadow.

“I guess it’s later,” Sam says, jesting. She looks up to see his face, illuminated by the street lights. The man gives her a small smile.

“I’m sorry.” She doesn’t know what she is apologising for.

“It’s okay, Tessa. Why are you apologising? I had a great time today. Thank you for keeping me company,” he says, cupping her chin a little.

“When can I see you again?” she asks, slightly breathless.

“It’s up to you, Miss Virtue,” he replies, his smile lopsided. “I won’t keep you. I’m sure you have important things to discuss.” He leans down to peck gently on her lips before squeezing her hand one last time. He lifts up a hand to wave in Scott’s general direction. “Hey, Scott.”

Tessa sends him away with her gaze. She watches as his car pulls away.

“It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”

“It’s _eight_. And why are you here? Poppy is obviously not here.”

He stands up, shoving his hands into his jean pocket. He looks at the door, and his face falls when Tessa doesn’t make the move to open the door and invite him in.

“You told him about me?”

She looks at him, confused. “Who?”

“Poppy’s doc.”

She blushes. It sounds salacious to call him that. They had met before he became Poppy’s doctor. “I did.”

“What did you say?”

She shrugs. “That we skated together.”

He scrutinises her face. They stand facing each other, no one budging. He eventually sighs. “You’re going to tell Poppy about him?”

She hugs her bag to her chest, confused about Scott’s line of questions. “One day. I’m getting to know him myself. I’m not going to bring people into her life just for them to leave it a few months later,” she says.

He nods. “Sounds reasonable.”

She looks at him, contemplating her next words. “I will consult with you about bringing new people into her life. Hopefully you can spare me the same courtesy.”

He looks away, chuckling lowly. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Okay,” she replies. She looks at the front door, and she looks back at him.

He takes the hint and shuffles down the stoop.

“Good night, T.”

“Night, Scott.” She unlocks the door and opens it halfway. “And maybe next time just call. You can get my new number from Alma.”

* * *

“I’m working on it, Tom.”

The lawyer sighs. He looks at her, a contemplating expression on his face. “Look, Tess. I don’t want to be telling you this. But the McGuires claimed the speculation on the internet about your promiscuity further proves your instability to be the proper guardian for Poppy.”

She spots the stapler on his table and imagine hurling it across the room. Fucking vultures on the internet with too much free time to destroy somebody’s reputation. “It’s just baseless, receiptless rumor on the internet! The last time I got a proper dick was about a year ago. If this is me being promiscuous, I might as well join the monastery!”

Tom has the gall to stifle his laugh. “I know, Tess. All of us who know you, know how you really are. But it’s out there. For the whole world to read. And it’s giving a negative impact to your credibility.”

She sighs. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to raise to the bait and lash out. Sometimes I think those creating the nasty shit are the people that are around me. I don’t know who to trust. My circle of trust is pretty limited.”

“Am I still included in that circle of trust?” comes the voice from the doorway. 

Tessa throws a look at her lawyer, well, their lawyer, giving ‘what the hell is he doing here’ vibe. Tom shrugs.

Tessa exhales. “What are you doing here, Scott?” _Why the hell are you everywhere_ , she thinks.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the rumors?” he demands, pulling a chair to sit directly in front of her face.

Tessa looks up to the ceiling. “Here we go,” she mumbles.

“Answer me, Tess.”

She stares at him, incredulous. “First of all, _when_ would I ever find the opportunity to tell you? You were never in Canada longer than two minutes. Second, _why_ would I tell you? Thirdly, you’re the reasons for more than half of the rumours, which goes back to the second question, rephrased, why should I tell you?”

Tom’s eyes dart between his two clients like he’s watching a ping pong match.

Scott purses his lips, his jaw ticking. “We used to share everything with each other. When did we stop?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe around the time you didn’t have the balls to tell me you were fucking your ex-skating partner one week after our breakup?”

That shuts Scott right up. He averts his gaze, his face contrite.

“Tessa,” Tom starts.

She sighs, reeling in. “I’m sorry, Scott. That was uncalled for. What are you doing here, anyway? No offense, This is _my_ hour with him, I’m footing the bill. You don’t get to barge in during _my_ consultation.”

"You're not being exactly forthcoming with Pop's custody issue, therefore I decided to drop by," he says, shrugging. 

"I never kept things from you!"

Scott raises an eyebrow.

She colors slightly, remembering her role in neglecting to inform him about Casey's will. 

“Tom told me what we need to do to get the McGuires to lay off from demanding guardianship of Poppy. And I say, let’s do it,” Scott says, sitting up, his eyes determined.

Tessa narrows her eyes. “What exactly did Tom tell you?”

He waves his hand to indicate the obvious. “That we need to provide a stable household to secure the custody.” He looks her directly in the eye. “We need to be married.”

Tessa snorts. “Easy for you to say. Why don’t _you_ get married? Then maybe you could shake off this crazy thoughts of having Poppy as yours and start popping your own kids with Jackie.”

“I broke up with Jackie," he says, unceremoniously. 

She looks at him disbelievingly but she’s not about to say anything.

“With that out of the way, let’s get married,” he continues.

Tessa gives him a blank face. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, _you_ and _I_ , let’s get married."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this with 'mercury in retrograde'? Explain yourself, please.


	15. Chapter 15

“I’m saying, you and I, let’s get married,” he repeats, wording the word slowly for her to follow. Surprising her, surprising himself. Even Tom looks shocked.

Her eyes widen. “No.”

He has the gall to look offended. “Why not?”

“Why not? Listen to yourself!”

“I’m your best bet as of now, Tess. I’m not going to rob you blind or demand your time or ask for you to wait,” he says, hitting below the belt. Apparently he’s really good at turning her words back at her.

She fumes. He has to put it out there. “I still have time,” she mutters.

He laughs cynically. “You don’t. We’re going to court in two weeks. Face it, Tess. Your neurotic tendencies don’t really make it easy to date you, what more to _marry_ you. Yeah, sure, you’re a pretty package, but you’re _tiring_.”

He can see the flash of hurt on her face, and he regrets the words the minute it was out. He has no fucking idea why he said it in the first place.

He needs her to be agitated, but _you don’t have to pulverise her heart, dickhead!_

“So you’re gonna be the fucking martyr and marry me, then?” she mutters, looking down, her eyes glassy.

“Yeah, somebody’s got to do it. I don’t want Poppy to be relocated two thousand kilometres away from me. Don’t be selfish, Virtch. Say yes,” he says, his eyes challenging her to contradict him.

She looks up at Tom, who is giving Scott a vicious look. Scott fixes his gaze upon her face stubbornly, despite his heart beating out of his chest. Never in his wildest dreams that this would be the way he would propose to Tessa. By breaking her heart.

“Is this the reason you called him here?” Tessa demands, feeling betrayed by her friend.

Tom looks apologetic. “No, I didn’t. I merely wanted you guys to talk and come up with a solution,” he begins. “But you do know this is the best way around this, Tess. You both will be able to secure the custody without dragging the hearing unnecessarily. It’s pretty much a clearcut case once you guys are married.”

“Are you positive I don’t have more time, and that getting married is the best solution for Poppy?” she asks, doing her best to avoid looking at Scott.

Tom purses his lips, and nods solemnly.

Tessa shakes her head, muttering under her breath. She stands up so suddenly her chair almost topples to the ground. “I need to go,” she mutters.

“We need to hash this out, T. You can’t run from this!” Scott barks, feeling desperate to keep her in the room.

She looks up, her eyes wild and glassy. “One time, _one_ time I’m trying to discern whatever this is and you said I’m running away? You’re the one who is good at that, Scott.”

“What’s there to think about? You keep so many things from me; the will, the McGuires, I don’t trust you to come back and discuss this rationally with me once you run off!”

“Are you serious? You’re basically asking me to commit to you in a legally binding institution, and you’re telling me not to think about it? Three months ago you couldn’t even stand the sight of me, what makes you think you can be married to me, this neurotic person, without even having to think about it?”

Scott snorts, leaning back against his chair. “You don’t have to be dramatic, T! Couldn’t stand the sight of you? What rubbish is that?”

“Oh, I forgot, three months ago you were still back in Florida, accompanying your girlfriend during her divorce proceeding. And now you’re casually dropping marriage talk to another woman altogether. Excuse me if I’m being a little dramatic!”

“Why are you bringing Jackie into this?”

“Why the hell not? You think after that clusterfuck during WOF and the hell that followed, I’d be willing to enter into a marriage with you, voluntarily?”

“What, marrying me is something unfathomable to you, is that it?!” he yells, fully angry, fully hurt.

She stares at him, shaking her head. “A year ago, it was the only thing I wanted,” she whispers.

Her words sober him up.

“But now, it’s the only thing that’s going to tear me apart.”

* * *

The door slams against the wall and Scott cringes.

“You’re fixing that up if it falls off the hinges,” his mother notes casually.

He mutters his sorry and storms to the kitchen. He opens the fridge, careful not to pull the door off in his anger. He takes a bottle of cold water and proceeds to empty it quickly. The coldness of the drink tampers down his rage and he leans back against the kitchen counter, contemplating.

“What happened?”

He looks up to his mother, noting the curious look on the woman’s face. Once upon a time, Alma would be the happiest to see the union between his youngest son and his skating partner.

“I asked Tessa to marry me.”

Her eyes widen, just like how Tessa had reacted.

“The McGuires are giving us problems with Poppy,” he explains, although it sounds unfortunately lame to his ears.

Alma frowns. “But do you have to go to the extreme?”

“I thought you’d be happy,” he says, looking at his mother accusingly.

Her face softens. “Once upon a time, that was my dream, I admit. But I gave it up, Scott,” she says gently.

His face crumples. “Why did you?”

“Not two weeks ago, you were still with Jackie,” she reminds him. “You’re my son, Scott. Whoever you want to be with, I’m going to welcome them into the family. Even if it’s not Tessa. That’s what moms do.”

“I’m losing her, mom,” he mutters, covering his eyes, which look wet with unshed tears.

Alma is torn. Does she offer him a hug, like what she tended to do? Or is it time for her to stop coddling?

“What do you mean?”

“I saw her kiss another man, mom. And it hurt me worse than it ever did before. It was the way she looked at him,” he mumbles.

“How did she look at him?” Alma asks warily, almost knowing the answer.

“The way she only used to look at me.”

The thing about regret, it’s seriously bitchy.

“And you think asking her to marry you is going to solve whatever it is that’s been haunting you two?”

“I don’t know, mom. I need to anchor her somehow. Don’t you get it? She’s like this kite I’ve been chasing. I’ve been chasing and it keeps getting away from me.”

“From what I remember, you never did much chasing, Scott. You were the one who didn’t visit for two month after her surgery, going off with Jessica for vacations, but never to visit your own partner. She had to watch you went off with Kaitlyn after Sochi, and eventually she came to piece you back together before Pyeongchang. And you definitely don’t call dating another woman a week after she told you to pull back and reflect as chasing.”

“She didn’t want me," he reasons, sounding petulant. 

“She just asked you for time, Scott. You two had just came off a long year, it’s reasonable for her to ask for time to reflect. You were asking a lot. As usual, you interpreted it your own way.”

“At least, Jackie wanted me.”

“Why don’t you ask her to marry you then? I’m sure she’d jump at the opportunity. Isn’t that what you wanted, to rub it in Tessa’s face that you’re dating your original skating partner?” Alma replies, shrugging her shoulders.

Scott looks down at his feet, feeling chastised.

“You’re so much like a child still, Scott. I played a part in it, where I coddled and allowed you to make your own mistakes, hoping eventually you’d learn.” _But you never did, son,_ she thinks ruefully.

“You’ve been making it so hard for her to choose you, but time and time again, she kept choosing you,” Alma says, straightening her back, leaving her son to his misery. “This time, why don’t you give her a damn good reason to stay, and maybe she will.”

* * *

“After much deliberating and weighing my options, I figure, beggars can’t be choosers,” she begins, looking down at the document in front of her.

Scott wills her to look up, desperate to see those hauntingly beautiful emeralds that has been a part of his life for the past 22 years. _You’re not a beggar, T. I am. Please look at me._

“I agree to enter into marriage with Scott Moir, for a limited duration which shall be agreed later, in order to secure the custody of Poppy Virtue,” she states, reading from her document listlessly. “I shall also agree to stipulations made by Mr. Moir, within reasons, during the length of our marriage.”

“Tessa.”

“I will also agree to a prenuptial agreement between Mr. Moir and I, with the intent to secure his assets during and after the dissolution of our marriage. I have discussed with my legal team,” she continues, flicking an eye at Tom, who looks heavenward, maybe in despair, or disagreement, Scott isn’t sure.

“I have discussed with my legal team,” she reiterates. “To compensate Mr. Moir for his hardship during the marriage. However, I appeal that the matter of Poppy’s future custodianship should not be contested further and should not be amended in the event of the dissolution of our marriage and Mr. Moir’s next marriage.”

“Tessa,” he tries again.

She inhales deeply, before finally looking his way. “Yes?”

“I don’t need compensation. And you don’t have to worry, I won’t take Poppy away from you.”

She exhales an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she says quietly, her eyes falling on her documents again. Scott can hear a mild sniffle, and he fights not to go and engulf her within his arms. He knows it is too early for physical comfort between them.

She clears her throat. “Then let’s draw a contract. We stay married for six months. Then we go our separate ways once the McGuires lay off Poppy.”

Six months is too little a time. He shakes his head, trying to mask his panic. “A year. Who knows when the custody battle will settle.”

She frowns. “No more than a year.”

“Fine. If you want it that way.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll get you a ring this evening.”

“You don’t have to.” She picks up her bag, tossing her phone and notebook hastily. “E-mail me the details of the court date, Tom. I have to go.” She looks at him. “Thank you,” she says curtly, before hurrying out of the office.

Scott sends her off with a regretful look. _It could have gone better, you asshole._

“You’re a fucking asshole, Scott. Who would think you’d treat your ‘precious’ partner just slightly better than you do your enemy? _Neurotic_? _Tiring_? What the fuck, Scott?”

Scott sighs, slumping. The fight has left his body. “I need to rile her up, Tom. She wouldn’t agree otherwise. She doesn’t trust me. Not anymore.”

His newly-acquired lawyer and friend snorts. “Yeah. And I could see why.”

He buries his face in his palms, trying to erase the memory of Tessa looking at him with hurt in her eyes. “I know how she operates. I’ve known her inside out. She rises to challenges. And this is me challenging her. I’m just glad she’s accepted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof.


	16. Chapter 16

Tessa tosses her handbag to the floor, and falls unceremoniously onto her bed.

She is marrying Scott fucking Moir. Though not the way she had wanted.

If she’s being honest with herself, days of her dreaming of being Mrs. Scott Moir had sailed months ago, when Scott showed up with Jackie to Lake Louise, during one of their TTYCT pitstops. Her sudden appearance hit her like a bludgeon to the head.

_“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he had said._

_“Yeah. Like you meant to tell me when you were creeping out her condo a week after we broke off. It’s okay, Scott. All good.”_

Her phone rings. She scrambles off the bed to get it. Gone were the days where ignoring calls were a thing. She’s a mother now, there’s a little girl that might be in trouble back in her grandma’s place.

A number not in her contact list flashes up. Unfortunately she has seen it enough years to recognise that it belongs to her ex-skating partner cum future husband, no matter how her brain tries to delete the memory.

She is tempted to press reject call and block the caller altogether. Maybe erase him from her life for good. _People in Apple, you need to start coming up with those functions._

Sighing, she swipes to take the call.

“Hello.”

He is uncharacteristically quiet. “Are you home?”

“Yes.” _And I just saw you twenty minutes ago. Can I catch a break?_

“I’ll stage a proposal if you want.”

She chuckles. What alternate universe are they living in? “No need, Scott. The less upstaged, the better. Tell me the time and date, and I’ll show up at the City Hall.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the whole church and white dress thing?” he asks quietly. “We can take about two weeks to prepare for everything. I'm sure Alma and Kate know some people.”

“Less upstaged, remember?”

She could hear him sighing. “Who do we tell apart from family?”

She looks at the standing fan, spinning and spinning. “The lesser who knows the better. So it’s easier for us to go our separate ways next year.”

“How is that going to convince the McGuires?”

“As long as they know we’re legally married, that should be enough in the court of law, I think?”

“Being married is not only on paper, Tess. You know this.”

She sits up, slightly exasperated. “Then what do you want us to do?”

“We should discuss logistics, we should move in together.”

She represses her snort. Not too long ago he can’t even be in the same room with her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ll move in then,” he says, very nonchalantly.

“It’s going to be weird for Poppy when you move out later though,” she says cautiously, totally not keen to limiting her freedom with him around.

“Anxious to get rid of me already, T?” he asks, his tone jesting.

She is in no mood to reply.

He sighs again. She is starting to feel bad. He is actually doing her a favor. The least she could do is be ungrateful. “I’ll get the front room ready for you,” she says quietly.

He mumbles a gentle ‘thanks’. “Are you going to take my name?”

She hesitates. He had seen her doodling her initials TVM on her notes back in elementary up to maybe junior high before. Maybe one time during the comeback, mostly on accident, after multiple shots of Jagerbomb maybe. Back when she was stupid and naive. “When we go our separate ways next year, it’d be easier if I were to stick with my own, don’t you think?”

“You’re right,” he says quietly, after a prolonged pause.

It was never as awkward, never as bad as Post Sochi. They are breaking all sorts of records tonight.

“I need to go, Scott. I’m going to pick up Poppy from my mom’s soon.”

“Have you told her?”

She narrows her eyes at a lint dusting on her pillow. She flicks it, satisfied seeing it floating away. “Yeah.”

“Poppy too?” She takes a while to answer. It proves to be hard to explain a matrimony to a child, let alone a fake one. “Not yet.”

“Can we tell her together?”

She purses. The first executive decision they have made as future spouses. How nice. “Okay.”

* * *

“Why can’t I be the flower girl at your wedding, Aunt T?”

Tessa refrains from sighing. After all, she was the one who taught the little girl not to sigh in the face of trouble. Just shoulder on. _Just shoulder on, Tessa._ “Because there won’t be a wedding.”

“But I thought you’re getting married to Uncle Scott?” Poppy asks again, her face the epitome of dissatisfaction.

Tessa keeps her focus on the road lest she hits her head repeatedly on the steering wheel. “Yes, I am. But there will only be a civil ceremony where we go and sign some stuff and come back home,” she explains patiently. Shit, even that sounds so depressing to her ears.

“What’s a _see-vel_ ceremony, aunt T?”

She had simply wanted to tell Poppy that Uncle Scott and Aunt Tessa are going to be taking care of her together.

_“But the point of getting married is for her. Why aren’t we telling the most important person in this matter?” he had argued._

_“I’m just thinking about what we are going to tell her next year. ‘Sorry, Pops. Aunt T and Uncle Scott are no longer required to be married so we’re getting a divorce.’ It’s going to confuse her even further,” she had explained patiently._

_“It’s ridiculous. I’m going to move in, and we are going to take care of her together, it’s impossible for her not to find out.”_

In the end, he had won, so she shut up as he sat Poppy down in front of them yesterday.

_“We have some exciting news to tell you,” Scott had said, smiling at the little girl. Tessa felt like she was swallowing bile. “Aunt T and I are getting married.”_

“Civil ceremony is more formal, we go to the court where Uncle Scott and I will sign a few documents, saying I am responsible for him and he for me, and a man will tell us that we are husband and wife,” Tessa relays patiently.

“So no white dress?”

“Maybe a simple one.”

“No flower girl or altar boys?”

“No.”

“No priest?”

“There’s a judge? He’s not so bad too.”

“No cake?”

“I’ll bake you one on the weekend.”

“No dancing?”

Tessa shakes her head, smiling ruefully. “No, baby. Judges don’t like people dancing in the courtroom.”

Poppy stares at her, aghast. “But Aunt T, that’s what you and Uncle Scott do best!”

“We quit dancing, remember?” Tessa reminds gently. She tucks a flyaway strand of hair behind Poppy’s ear. Her left arm still in a cast, making it hard for the little girl to control her straying strands.

“But you have to dance on your wedding day!”

“I can dance with you at home later?”

Poppy stares at her aunt, her jaw dropping. “Your see-vel thing sounds boring, Aunt T.”

Tessa sighs. It's pretty much inevitable at this point. “I know.”

* * *

Tessa stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks are hollowed in more than usual. The bags under her eyes are pretty salvageable, thanks to Clinique Repair Laser Focus. Her skin, slightly golden, courtesy of summer.

But her eyes have lost their usual sparks, she realises. Her scrutiny ventures lower to her tits, humble as they are, and she further caves in, her shoulders dropping, remembering how her future husband’s previous ‘life partners’ were always gifted in that department.

Her loose t-shirt masks her abdomen, but she is aware, even her abs are fading, due to less regimented gym time, and more indulgence to chocolates, much to Poppy’s delight. She smiles slightly, remembering the claps she was awarded with after nailing a particular chocolate pudding recipe a few nights back. Poppy is always a staunch supporter, and for that, she is eternally grateful, although it's costing her a few extra pounds on the scale.

The civil ceremony is tomorrow, and tonight Kate insisted that Tessa get enough rest (and to think thoroughly about her decision). Midori wanted to throw a hen party, at which Tessa had scoffed at. Jordan insisted on being the maid of honor, since Charlie had called her for some best man details.

_“You don’t have to come, Jo. It’s literally just a signing.”_

_Jordan snorted through the phone. “In which universe would I not attend my own little sister’s wedding?”_

_“It’s not a wedding,” she repeated monotonously._

_“Civil ceremony, wedding, same difference,” Jordan lectured. “And it’s totally unfair if Charlie, Danny and Kevin are gonna be there and I’m not.”_

_“Fine. Come.”_

_“I’m going to call Dori up so that we could match or something.”_

_“Come on. Do we have to make a big deal out of it?”_

_“Of course we do!”_

_“It’s not even a real marriage, Jo.”_

_There was a pause, followed by Jordan’s sniffles. “You know, in another realm, I’d be rejoicing at the thought of you marrying Scott.”_

_“Just not this realm, huh?”_

_“He does love you, baby girl.”_

_She had smiled. “Just not the way it’s required to maintain a marriage, eh?”_

_“You don’t know that.”_

_It was Tessa’s turn to snort. “Oh no, trust me. I do know.”_

_“Have you guys talked?”_

_“Yeah, we do.”_

_“Huh. Funny, cause it sounds like you guys barely do any talking at all.”_

So far, the amount of people outside her immediate family who knows about their nuptial can be counted with one hand.

Sam.

She looks up to the mirror again. Will he remember her? Will he wonder about her?   
  
They had met up earlier today at the park, after sending off Poppy to Kate’s.

_“Dori told you,” she said, upon seeing his face._

_He had nodded, solemn. Even in his most serious demeanor, there was a gentle spirit that called to her._

_“I’m sorry,” she spoke, her voice breaking._

_His face softened, and he stepped closer, before minding his distance. His hesitance made her heart fractured more._

_“Don’t cry, Tessa. I can’t stand seeing you cry,” he said, voice low, his hand reaching out, then fell flat by his side._

_A tear rolled down her cheek. “You can touch me, you know.”_

_“I know. I’m just afraid, if I start touching you, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”_

She’s going to miss seeing the way he looked at her. She hasn’t had that in awhile.

_You’re tiring, Virtue._

The voice echoing in her head.

Not to Sam.

_You’re hard to love._

She shakes her head. Not to Sam.

_Are you sure?_

_Why are you entering a marriage where you’re unwanted then?_

_I’m wanted. Sam wants me._

_Well, you can try to find out._

She doesn’t hesitate when she grabs her car keys and drives off, tomorrow be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just glad RL Tessa is happier than my T. Sorry :(


	17. Chapter 17

He is too anxious to wait for her inside, so he parks himself outside, leaning against the wall near the stairs leading to the entrance. The immediate Virtue clan has arrived sans the main star. Jordan had given him a look, her face unreadable, saying, _“T is on her way. She’s making a pitstop.”_

His heart pounds in his chest. Did she go back to Sam’s this morning?

Last night, he was just driving up her lane when he noticed her car driving off the opposite direction. He had wanted to sit her down in private, to look her directly in the eye and to tell her how he’s sorry for the past few months. He had wanted to tell her that he’s marrying her not only because of Poppy, but because she is the love of his life, and he’s sorry he had forgotten that for the past few months he was with another woman.

But the words were choked in his throat when he realised that the house that she had pulled at belonged to one doctor with tousled blonde hair, who greeted her at the door with something akin of regret and longing on his face.

When the door had closed behind her, he was attacked with a myriad of emotions, with mental images of her being kissed by the blonde man so passionately against the door. When he rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the images, a new projection appeared, in which the doctor had pulled his skating partner to wrap her legs around his hips, as he walked them both to his bedroom.

So many things went through his head, and he had half the mind to step out of his car and to bang on the front door, demanding his fiancée and the man to step out.

_What fiancée, Scott? You didn’t even give her a ring._

His heart wrenching at the thought of the two of them being intimate in the house. He was finally marrying to woman of her dreams, only for her to give her heart and soul to another man, who was more likely more deserving.

He scrubbed his face from tears when the door creaked open, and she stepped out, her face tear-stricken. His heart broke even further; she looked so anguished, even from the distance, and as the man wrapped her in a departing hug, Scott decided it was time for him to go.

From the distance, he spots her stepping out of a taxi, dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple blouse. Her hair is down her shoulders, slightly covering her eyes from the midday sun. She looks like any other woman running her errands on a normal day, not like somebody who is getting married in half an hour.

“You done with your errand?”

She looks up, startled. “Hi, Scott. I’m not late, aren’t I?” she asks, her face wary.

He shakes his head, pushing away from the wall. “Tess, I know it fucking kills you to marry me, but you couldn’t even put on a dress?”

Her face falls. “My dress is with Jordan,” she says quietly. “I went to talk to my gran. Didn’t want to get grass stain in the dress.”

_Fuck, Moir. You couldn’t keep it in._ He reaches out to touch her hand, and to his relief, she relents. “I’m sorry,” he says, contrite.

She gives him a small smile, looking away. “Don’t be. I’m going to take a few minutes to change.”

He paces the hallway in front of the court room, waiting for the Virtue and Moir ladies to emerge from the restroom. Danny and Charlie have taken a seat each on either side of Kevin, and they are looking at something on Kevin’s phone. Suddenly they break into cheers, which is silenced by a death glare from the clerk.

The three brothers exchange a few more hushed words, most probably about last night’s game. He leans back against the wall, anxiously counting the minutes to being Tessa Virtue’s husband.

“Everything ready?”

Kevin looks at him with a blank expression.

Scott nods, running a hand through his hair. He’s trying to keep it long again. “Yeah.”

“I hear there’s a contract?” the extra brother of his childhood asks again.

“Sort of.”

“I told her not to marry you.”

Scott smiles, looking down at his fingers, nails bitten off during his sleepless night yesterday. “I might have expected that to happen. We’re right on schedule then.”

“Pray tell, what the hell are we doing here on this fine Wednesday then?”

He looks up to Kevin. A few inches taller than him, a few years older too. “I’m selfish.”

Kevin snorts. “That’s not new.”

“I made a mistake last year,” he begins his narrative. By now, it’s getting tiring, but not less true.

Kevin purses his lips. “Everybody makes mistakes, Scott. But then we move on along with our lives.”

“I can’t let her. Not without me.”

“That’s usually how you operate, yes. After Sochi, when she was comfortable with retirement, finally getting over you, although not with the best of guy, and you had to reel her in. I thought you’ve changed. We all did. Hence why Casey was dumb enough to name you in his will. But you didn’t. You’re stuck in your impulsive ways. What happens in a year, when you get tired of her again? When you’re not happy with her again? Thank God you guys are going your separate ways next year, eh?”

“I will never apologise for that will, Kevin. I am honored that Casey deemed me good enough at the time to be Pop’s guardian. You gotta let me step up to that. I love her. I love the both of them. I don’t apologise for that too.”

“You are all big words, Scott. I’m not sure I trust you. I did, but you’ve lost it a few months back when you disappeared on my sister.”

“I’m sorry, Kevin. But I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise you, Pop and T, I’ll take care of them with the very best in me.”

The sound of heels softly clicking against the floor reverberates through the hall. Tessa emerges from the corner in a cream-colored knee-length dress, looking as beautiful as ever. Her hair is up in a low bun, and her make up is minimal.

The breath is knocked out of his chest; it isn’t the first time she has left him breathless.

Her face however, is stoic, not exactly the look Scott dreamed of having on her the day they would get married. His heart thuds painfully in his chest. Would he ever be able to correct this, or would they implode and destroy each other in the process?

“You look beautiful.”

She gives him a wan smile, coming close to him and her brother. “You two look handsome.” She frowns at his crooked tie, and reaches over to tug it in place. The simple gesture gives him an immense relief.

“There,” she says, stepping back, admiring her work.

“Let’s get this show on the road?” he asks, offering his arm to her. She looks down on the proffered arm, looking like she is bracing herself, before taking it.

Taking the opportunity, he quickly pulls her into a vacant janitor closet, much to her surprise, from the sound of her yelp. He locks the door behind them, and grapples around for the light.

“What are you doing, Scott?” she asks, confused.

He succeeds in finding the switch and flicks the light on. The small area is bathed in a warm yellow glow from the bulb. He releases her elbow and reaches down for both of her hands.

“Look into my eyes, please,” he begins, nervous.

Confused, she obliges.

“Do you believe me when I say we are in this together, T?” he asks, pulling her hands against his chest.

She opens her mouth to answer, then closes it again.

“Our names are going to be on a totally foreign certificate this time around, kiddo. And this time, I am going to carry more responsibility than of trying not to drop you on the ice, do you think you can trust me with that responsibility?”

Her eyes dart on her face, clearly still confused and tongue-tied, especially at the mention of the long-forgotten nickname.

“I need you to believe that I’m going to be there for you, and Poppy, no matter what, no matter the circumstances, because this is what we do, T.”

Her eyes water slightly.

“I’m sorry I’ve been an ass. I forgot for a while, but I’m here now. Be here with me, okay?” he begs again.

She lets out a small nod.

He chuckles, his own tears rolling down his cheek. “Yeah?”

She smiles, pulling on one hand to swipe at the tear on his cheek. “Yeah,” she replies, patting his chest gently, reassuring. “Let’s go get married, Scott.”

* * *

He enters the house with the key she gave him aeons ago, which he had stopped using last year. He had found it buried under the small box, which content he had bought back in May, three months after the Olympics. He had kept them hidden from his sight back in July, right after that epic screaming match (more like he was the one screaming, she was the one crying).

It didn’t take long for him to find the two things. He was just relieved that it wasn’t buried in a mountain of dust, and although it was retrievable, he wasn’t sure the same thing could be said about his wife’s heart.

_His wife._

Finally, although not really the way he pictured it to be.

He wanted badly to give her that ring, the one that he bought in Belgium, but he knows it isn’t the time yet. Instead, he produced a pair of wedding bands, his and hers, which he had spent an afternoon selecting in Detroit. Both are understatedly elegant, just the way that she likes her jewelries to be.

Imagine buying rings in Toronto. The ruckus would be hideous. Tessa would be so mad at him.

_“You don’t have to wear a ring, Scott,” she had said, surprised to see him producing the rings from his pocket._

_He treaded carefully. He had inserted his foot into his mouth earlier that day, he was not about to repeat the same mistake again. “Why not?”_

_“Then you don’t have to field questions about a foreign object on your ring finger,” she replied, as if it was obvious._

_“I don’t mind.”_

_“I thought we’re keeping it a secret?”_

_“If people sees it, and asks, I’m not going to lie,” he replied, shrugging._

_“What if…” her voice trailed._

_“What if what, T?”_

_She breathes in deeply. “Do you want me to wear a ring too?” she asked, her tone careful._

_“I’d like that very much.”_

The sight that greets him instantly warms his heart. Tessa, still in her ivory dress, laid down on the sofa with Poppy wrapped within her arms. Both are sound asleep, probably tired from the day activity. Their siblings had surprised them with a small ceremony back at his parents’ place, as booking a restaurant in town would raise too many questions.

_“I know you guys said that you have quit dancing, but we have a request,” Poppy had announced after climbing up on the couch. Q and Char had disappeared somewhere and came back with a laptop._

_Scott looked up, in time to see Tessa, who was serving Alma dessert, looking back at him. The two exchanged glances, intrigued by Poppy’s request._

_“What is it, Pops?”_

_“We want to see you dancing to this song we heard on Granny Alma’s laptop,” Q chimed in. The two girls booted up the laptop as the adults looked up to the newlyweds, who were shifting awkwardly on their feet._

_Danny clapped his hands. He had flown in from Copenhagen for the ceremony, which had greatly touched both the bride and the groom. “Yes! And I got dibs as Tessa’s second dance!”_

_Jim was wise enough to not say anything._

_Scott watched as Tessa bit her lip, smiling warily to her audience. “We don’t have room,” she remarked._

_“We’ll make do,” he said gently, walking to her, offering her his arm._

_She nodded reluctantly, before the sound of the orchestra filtered from the laptop._

_When the girl in your arms, is the girl in your heart_   
_Then you’ve got everything_   
_When you’re holding the dream, you can dream when you hold_   
_You’re as rich as a king_

_Being that close, within each other’s arms, felt like coming home to him. They swayed gently side by side, as he pulled her closer into his arms. The words from the song reverberated in his head, as he buried his face into his favorite spot in the world. It had been months since their last skate, and the scent of her perfume reminded him of things that he could have lost._

Might still lose, if he didn’t play his card right.

“Hey, you’re here.”

Scott smiles, slowly placing his duffel bag on the floor, containing clothes for the next few days. “You look comfy.”

She chuckles quietly, running a hand through Poppy’s tangled strand. “We just wanted to lie down for a while.”

“And then ten years later, eh?” he jokes.

She gives him a sleepy half smile, before attempting to sit up without twisting Poppy’s bad arm. He rushes to her side, expertly lifting the little girl into his arms.

“You don’t have to,” she begins.

“You’d better start learning that I’m going to be around, kiddo,” he says quietly.

She opens her mouth to say something, before closing it again, flashing him a contrite, albeit sleepy smile. “Okay,” she replies, simple, not even fussing over the almost-forgotten nickname.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

So far, so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, so good...


	18. Chapter 18

_“I don’t want you to do anything you might regret, baby.”_

Tessa wakes up with a start, reaching up to her lips, which she swears still tingle from Sam’s kiss the night before.

The birds chirping outside, and the light filtering through the curtain signifies a brand new day, the day her life is going to alter, at least for another year.

It’s a small price to pay to having Poppy with her forever.

She tosses her duvet aside and steps out of the bed. After a quick shower, she throws on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt; she has a pitstop to make. Funny, she had thought the day she would eventually become a bride, she would spend the whole morning in a bathtub, soaking up on some moisturising concoctions, before being lathered up in many layers of perfumed lotion.

But of course nothing is going according to plan. At least not this time around.

She wonders whether she will ever be given a chance for a redo.

But it’s not really important anymore, isn’t it?

She arrives at the cemetery late morning. She hikes up the small hill to their family plot. The sun is bright, it is promising to be a beautiful early summer day. She walks between marked graves, smiling sometimes at peculiar epitaphs written on the stones. A few minutes later, she kneels in front of a grave, laying a neatly tied bunch of pink posies on the grass.

“Hey, gran. Long time no see. I’m going to be real quick, since as usual, I have an event to attend. But this time, it’s my own wedding,” she pauses. “Nope, I’m not lying,” she chuckles.

“If you could stay on longer, you’d be able to see me finally marrying Scott. But I need to apologise to you, Gran, if you knew the nature of this marriage, you’d be so mad. So in a way, I’m glad I didn’t have to look you in the eye and lie to you.”

She reaches out, swiping an errant leaf gently from the stone. Her fingers run along the wordings of her grandmother’s name, formulating her next speech. “And please send my regards to Casey and Megan. I’m not going to forget this particular stunt they’ve pulled beyond the grave, ever.”

“I love you, gran. Love you too, Casey, Megan.”

She slips a hair comb meticulously into the low bun, careful not to mess the do. No matter how she is dreading the marriage, Scott deserves for her to at least make an effort for the ceremony. His earlier remark had hurt, but she can’t really blame him for his misunderstanding.

“You look lovely, as always, my dear.”

A small smile blooms on her face as she sees Alma standing behind her in the mirror.

“Thank you, Alma.”

“You know I am always your biggest fan, right?”

Tessa chuckles. “I know.”

“I always want the best for the both of you, but especially for you, because you have always been so selfless, you always take yourself into consideration last. You have always put him first. I always want more for you,” Alma continues.

Tessa turns to face the woman who bears so much resemblance to the man she can’t decide whether she loves or hates more. “I know, Alma. And I love you for that.”

“Therefore if more is not necessarily with my son, I’m all for that, baby. You don’t have to be selfless all the time,” the mother figure says gently.

“Mama Moir, are you telling me you don’t want me to be your daughter in-law?” Tessa says in jest, half ruefully.

To her surprise, Alma bursts into tears.

She goes to hug the older woman to her chest. “Alma, I’m sorry,” she rushes.

“You don’t know how much I miss hearing you calling me that, dear girl,” Alma sobs, hugging Tessa tight. “It’s the one thing I’ve always dreamed of, Tessa. For you to be my daughter, in every sense of the word.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be better in the future,” Tessa whispers, regretting the way she had handled the rift between her and Scott. No matter how bad it is in between them, Alma has always been a great support system and a pillar of strength for her for the past two decades.

They pull apart, arms still wrapped around each other. “It’s okay, my dear. I understand, it was hard for you to be around. But are you sure about this? You had committed yourself to him for two decades, do you think you could do more?”

Tessa smiles ruefully. “It’s only a year,” she replies, shrugging. “Besides, he’s the one doing me a favor. If at all, you should be more worried about him committing himself to _this_ , I don’t know, _business contract_.”

“He’s all in, Tessa. He’s not the most responsible for the past few months, but he’s all in now. But I know, certain things are better left forgotten, and I’m sorry that you can’t seem to catch a break, but I want you to have the best of things in life. For your sake, I hope my boy is to you. If he’s not, I want you to know, I don’t blame you too,” Alma says seriously.

Tessa reaches over to wipe a stray tear on Alma’s cheek. “It’s okay, Mama Moir. I love you for always taking care of me. But like I said, it’s only a year. And you are right, some things are better left forgotten, some of which seem so trivial now. It’s not important to me anymore, Alma. What’s important is Poppy and my family, which includes you and the rest of the Moir clan. Your love is enough to sustain me. Who knows, in the future, I might find what I’m looking for with another person, but that’s another story for another day,” she finishes, rubbing softly on the woman’s shoulder.

“Will you ever forgive him?”

“That’s never too hard, Alma. But I can’t forget.”

Standing across from him in front of the judge feels surreal. 22 years of partnership is boiled to this one particular moment; the both of them being in a matrimony in order to take care of a little person known as her niece. Funny how God works… She was so prepared to face 2019 without Scott Moir, after a tumultuous and heartbreaking end to 2018, but of course she ends up having to bind herself to him.

* * *

 

_“I’d like that very much.”_

The day after the ceremony, she looks down on the ring on her finger, mulling over the meaning of it. It’s elegant and lovely, in another life she would be gushing non stop while posting a photo of it on her Instagram. He’s made an excellent purchase, or maybe he had Alma or Cara to thank for it.

Honestly, she doesn’t really care either way. She knows she doesn’t deserve the significance that comes with it. And she doesn’t plan to get attached to it.

She removes the ring and places it on the dresser before going through her morning routine. It’s nearly 8, and Poppy will be awake soon. She keeps an ear to any sound coming from the front room, and hearing nothing, she steps out to the kitchen.

“Oh, morning,” she greets, pulling her robe tightly around her body. The days where she paraded around her home in scanty shorts and braless shirts in front of Scott Moir were over circa July 2018.

She really shouldn’t be surprised. He was always an early riser.

“Hey, T. You’re up early,” he remarks, smiling.

She shrugs and smiles. She finds herself lazy to explain her new routine to him.

She sees him rummaging through her cabinets.

“What are you looking for?” she asks, curious.

“Your mixing bowl. It used to be in here,” he replies from over his shoulders.

His words freeze them in their places. He slowly turns to face her, his face wary.

She averts his eyes and shrugs. “Well, not anymore. Check the one above your head.”

“Why are they not in their places anymore?” he asks, his words careful.

She smiles. “Sometimes change is good. Especially in the presence of small children who are excellent at breaking things.”

The coffee machine lets out a ding, signifying a fresh pot. Pulling out two mugs, she turns to face him. “You don’t have to cook. Pops and I go on a little walk before stopping by for breakfast on our way home since the beginning of summer.”

He looks up from the bowl, his face hopeful. “Yeah?”

She looks on warily. She is not ready to share their routine with him. And imagine the talks around town at seeing them both together… “Yeah.”

“Can I join you guys?”

She shrugs, trying to throw him off. “You might be bored. We like to take our own sweet time.”

“Sounds fun!” he says, clapping his hands once, excited.

She doesn’t respond, only pouring them a cup of coffee each.

“If you don’t mind -,” he begins, his excitement wavering.

She shakes her head, another half smile. She needs to let it go. “No, I don’t. I’m just used to having her to myself. That’s all.” She pushes one mug to him. “How did you sleep? Do you need anything for the room?”

He gives her a gentle smile as he picks up his coffee. “It was fine, T. I’ve been here before. I know where everything else is.”

She tries to hold her smile as she turns on her feet. “Alright. I’m going to wake Poppy up.”

Ironically, they match when the three of them walk out of the front door. She has dressed Poppy up in an orange t-shirt to cheer the girl up (although no cheering needed, she finds out later) and she herself opts an orange tank from her wardrobe.

“Hey, team orange!” he cheers, lifting Poppy onto his shoulder. Poppy squeals and flaps her arms, looking goofy with the cast on.

“Uncle Scott?”

“Yes, Pops?”

“I spy with my little eye something purple!”

His eyes dart around the lane, looking for anything with said color, while Poppy looks down from her throne on Scott’s shoulders to wink and nod at Tessa’s shoes.

Tessa chuckles, reaching up to swipe an errant hair behind Poppy’s ears.

“Is it…” he begins, eyes roaming the street, to no avail. “A little help here, T?”

She smiles, nodding down to her trainers.

“Aunt T’s shoes!”

Poppy laughs. “That’s cheating!”

“You’re slick, Pops. I give you that. My turn,” he says, turning to look at her, smiling gently. “Here it is, I spy with my little eye something green and beautiful.”

“That’s easy! Those are my eyes and aunt T’s eyes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's that, I guess.


	19. Chapter 19

Her smile wavers and she looks away.

He can’t really blame her. Laying it on thick has always been the way he operates, and after 22 years, she’s unable to appreciate it anymore, not when he goes around to say the same to ten more other women.

Days after their ceremony is filled with paperwork and prepping for Poppy’s custody hearing. The things that he learns during the meeting breaks his heart.

“So, do I need to make an account on who I’ve banged for the past two years or something because that list would be pathetically short,” she says, making him spray his coffee a little.

Tom looks a cross of exasperated and tickled. “Just maybe who your boyfriends were, so that they can validate for you?”

“Really? This would hold in court? The man I fucked can leave testimonials about me as a person and the judge and members of the jury would take their word for it?” she asks, skeptic.

“They could verify the relationship and testify to your personality and credibility.”

Tessa shrugs. “Fine.” She looks over her shoulder at him. “Then you can ask Scott. He was the only man I banged slash had a relationship with for the past two years.” She holds her gaze, raising an eyebrow.

He bristles at the past tense.

“I’m not a cheater,” she says, misinterpreting his displeasure, her voice defensive.

He sighs. “I know, T.” _And I know you didn’t end up with Andrew. Or Sam. I’m sorry._

“You sounded as if you didn’t believe me.”

“You made it sound like our relationship was in the past.”

“Well, isn’t it?”

“We’re married.”

She looks at him, levelling his gaze, her face unreadable. Then she looks away. “Well, how about it? Does Scott count?”

Tom nods. “He does. Even better now that you guys are married.”

“But he has a girlfriend. Will _he_ be a credible witness?”

Scott exhales. “I don’t. _Jesus_.”

She ignores his protest. “But he did. Not a month ago.”

Tom lifts his shoulders. “I don’t think the McGuires are aware. _You_ are the more talked-about between the two of you.”

She sits back, crossing her arms. “Now I _really_ wish I had some kind of fun a few weeks back, hell, a few months back, at least this whole libel and defamation of character is worth something,” she mutters.

Scott swallows visibly, his jaw clenching. The thought of her having ‘fun’ doesn’t bode well with him. “You should have told me.”

“What could you do? What _would_ you do?” she asks suddenly, her eyes blazing. “Tell me.”

“I would have done _something_. I would have defended you. Fuck, I would hold a damn press conference for you.”

“Scott, it took me gently reminding you of our Olympic anniversary for you to come back on social media. Forgive me if I didn’t think you’d even care.”

He looks at her incredulously. “Of course I care, Tess.”

She looks at him again, withholding a speech. He notices she is doing that a lot now, fully aware that whatever she really wants to say has the potential to hurt or break him. He somehow appreciates and loathes it at the same time.

“Forget about it, Scott. It happened. I don’t care as long as Poppy is ours. It’s not my first rodeo.”

He reaches out, tentative. “I know. But I would still like to know. I want to know everything.”

She looks at his hand, her smile wary. “Anything pertinent, of course.”

“I mean it, everything.”

She averts her eyes.

Their discussion continues for another hour before they depart from Tom’s office.

“Wanna go for lunch?” he asks, hopeful for a yes.

She shakes her head. “I want to get back to Poppy.”

He nods. He can’t say no to that. He turns on the radio. “I’m thinking meatloaf for dinner.”

She smiles distractedly, looking out the window. “That’s great.”

“Do you think I can break your new crockpot in? Or that was supposed to be a secret purchase?” he asks casually, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

She colors slightly, and Scott smirks. “Go ahead,” she mumbles. “But it’s been used plenty of time now.”

“Dang,” he says. “We need to drop by for grocery though.”

“I can do it later.”

“Let’s do it together now.”

She purses her lips. He knows she is not really keen to be seen together with him, doing mundane things such as grocery shopping. People will talk. Exactly what he is going for.

She peruses the vegetables section alone, keeping a steady a few steps distance from him. She scrutinises every tomatoes and potatoes, turning them over in her hand, before putting them gently into her trolley.

He patiently waits for her, for all intents and purposes, by the dairy section, and eventually she steps up to him, her face slightly begrudging.

“You may want to analyse our milk selection, so I’m waiting for your expertise,” he says, a smile jutting on the corner of his lips, grabbing her trolley to push it for her. They are buying milk together, and he gets to call it their milk, and he’s thanking the universe for small favors.

She rolls her eyes and grabs a gallon of an organic product that they used to have in their fridge.

He slips in behind her and gently grabs a free hand. “Great choice. To the butcher next,” he announces, slipping their fingers together in a dance hold, not giving her a chance to pull away.

His phone rings in his pocket, and he pulls it out with his other hand. The screen flashes with Jackie’s name on it. “I’m sorry, T. I told her -.”

She cuts in, already tugging to free her hand. “Don’t worry about it,” she replies quietly.

He rejects the call, holding on tightly to her hand. “It’s just, she wants to meet up and return some things to me.”

“It’s okay, Scott. I understand.” She tugs harder, effectively freeing her hand.

They walk wordlessly to the cashier, butcher and meat forgotten.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, holding her back from entering the car after loading in the groceries.

She shrugs. “It’s okay. Do whatever you want to do. Just, not in the house.”

His heart thuds, early signs of anger. “What does that mean?”

She averts her eyes. “Whatever you want it to mean.”

He looks at her, hurt, his hand dropping to his side. “You think I would do that to you? Cheat on you, let alone, do it in your fucking house?”

She sighs, looking at him, a little lost. “I don’t know, Scott. This was how it was, isn’t it? Texting behind my back. Then the random calls. Next thing I know you’re taking a flight to Florida to celebrate your birthday,” she rants quietly.

“Look, I don’t have any expectations from you. I appreciate you sacrificing yourself marrying this neurotic person, but I don’t want to cut you off from whoever’s keeping your dick warm. Let’s face it, you’re not really good at being celibate,” she says, matter-of-factly.

He colors, both from anger and shame. She had been witness to more than a decade of shenanigans, where he had jumped from one woman to another. “Stop, T. _Stop_. I’m sorry I said that. And make no mistake, I will be faithful to you, regardless to the nature of our marriage.”

“Like I said, I won’t hold it against you if you’re back with her,” she says, opening the car door, effectively ending the conversation. “And let’s not air our dirty laundry in the middle of Metro parking lot, in broad daylight. Let’s go and pick Poppy up.”

The drive to Kate’s only takes ten minutes but the silence stretches on forever. They enter the house in relative silence, far from a couple of happy newlywed they should be portraying. Kate looks on warily as she opens the front door, very acquainted with Scott’s frustrated demeanour and Tessa’s ignorance-is-bliss’s face.

“What happened?” she asks her new son in-law discreetly. She loves Scott like her own, but not necessarily as her son in-law. Tessa had been too much in love from the start, and from the eyes of a mother, it was often disheartening to see her daughter being heartbroken over and over again.

Scott sends Tessa off with his eyes, who goes rushing into the kitchen to greet Poppy. “She doesn’t trust me,” he sighs. He’s not about to tell his mother in-law that his ex-girlfriend had given him a call.

Kate sighs. “She does. In a way.”

“Not where it matters. Not with her heart.”

“Do you blame her though?”

He looks down at his feet, running a hand through his hair. “What do I do?”

Kate looks torn between comforting the man or chastising him. God knows he’s got enough lectures nowadays, if Jordan was right. “I don’t know, Scott. That’s something you have to ask yourself, son.”

He sighs, defeated. Week two of marriage is not looking so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts and prayers to the victims and families of the New Zealand shooting...


	20. Chapter 20

She feels his presence before she actually hears him.

It has always been that way between them, no matter how much she wishes for it to change.

She keeps her silence and maintains her breathing. It had been her time and space for the past few months; early morning yoga in her backyard, but now, it seems like she has to share this too.

She doesn’t pay attention as she flows from one pose to another, concentrating more on her core. From Warrior she moves to plank, to side planks, before ending with cobra and downward-facing dog. Eventually she cools down and enters into _shavasana_ , closing her eyes, concentrating her senses to the surrounding sounds and relaxed muscles in her body.

Slowly, she pulls herself up, crossing her legs, eyes opened, senses aware.

“Been a long time since we were on yoga mats, side by side,” he comments, swiping his t-shirts from his body and proceeds to wipe his sweat with it.

Tessa averts her eyes from his pectorals and abs. _Not yours, anymore, T._

“Aunt T? Uncle Scott?”

She turns her head to face the back door, where Poppy is standing, rubbing her eyes. “Hey, shrimp,” she coos, opening her arms to welcome her niece.

Poppy walks dutifully into her arms, wrapping her own little one around Tessa’s neck. “I had a horrible dream,” she whines.

Scott’s worried face is adorable if she is not so on the fence about him. He scoots to her mat, inching closer to her side, almost enveloping both her and Poppy within his arm. She tries to keep her frame relaxed, because it is not about her, it is about the little girl on her lap.

“Wanna tell us about it, Pops?”

“I dreamed that my birthday cake exploded and it got onto my pretty purple dress,” she says, pouting a little.

Tessa nods, thoroughly amused but not showing it. “Your birthday is not for another month, shrimp,” she reminds the little girl.

Scott looks utterly confused.

“Yeah, that means it could still happen, right, Uncle Scott?”

“Urm, I’m not sure,” he says carefully. “But how can a birthday cake explode?”

“I don’t know, but the cake ruined my pretty purple dress!” she whines, her bottom lip sticking out even more.

“You don’t even have a purple dress, baby,” Tessa says, smiling knowingly.

Poppy shrugs. “Well, not yet. I might have it soon,” she replies, swinging her head, side to side.

Scott has his ‘ _aha_ ’ moments and nods slowly, refraining from laughing. He is always impressed by the amount of DHA working on Poppy's brain cells. 

“I saw a pretty one at the mall with Grandma yesterday,” Poppy continues, flashing her green eyes at puppy-dog setting.

Tessa hides a smile while running a hand through the little girl’s hair. “Uh huh. I’m sure.”

“Can we go and get it later, Uncle Scott?”

Scott opens his mouth to agree, but turns to look at her at the last minute, seeking permission.

Tessa makes an executive decision. She is not in the mood to hang out in the mall with ‘Uncle Scott’. Besides, his phone had been going off the hook all night due to relentless calls from a certain somebody. “Uncle Scott has to meet up with his friend later, Pops. So, maybe another day?”

Poppy looks on curiously. And slightly warily. She is obviously remembering certain things. “Which friend?”

Scott looks like he has swallowed something bad. “Uh.”

Tessa stands up abruptly, carrying Poppy with her, effectively putting a distance between her and Scott. Him shirtless is getting distracting. “His skating friend. Anyway, what do you want for breakfast? Maybe we will talk more about this dress later?”

* * *

 

She is lathering lotion on her legs when he barges into her room unannounced. The bottle drops and she goes to clutch tightly at her towel. “Jesus, Scott. Knock, why don’t you?”

“Can you please not bring her up in front of Poppy?”

Tessa frowns, grabbing her bathrobe and slipping it on hastily. “Who?”

He looks down momentarily on her legs before snapping his eyes back to her face. “Jackie,” he replies. “And for the record, I’ve seen them all, Tess.”

She rolls her eyes. “One, those are the kind of comments that would go unappreciated. Two, I didn’t. I was just saying you were meeting a friend. Three, please knock next time.”

Hands on his hips, he looks at her, exasperated. “I’m not meeting her.”

She sighs, turning around to collect the fallen lotion. “Just go, Scott. She won’t quit calling you if you didn’t. And please bring your phone into your room next time. Some people are trying to sleep.”

He manages to look abashed. “I put it out there because I have nothing to hide.”

She looks away, smiling ruefully, being reminded of a time when he was glued to his phone back in November. Little did she know. “Honestly, keep your phone with you. I’d rather not know.”

He looks down at his feet, ashamed.

“Does she know about this?” she continues, gesturing to the space between them.

“What? Us being married?”

She shrugs.

He shakes his head. Informing his ex-girlfriend about him getting hitched to another of his ex-girlfriend wasn’t really a priority on his list.

“Good. Keep it that way.”

He scrutinises her. “Why? Sooner or later she’d find out. London and Ilderton are not that huge, Tess.”

She walks to her wardrobe and grab a dress before walking to her drawer. “I’m sorry but your girl just rubs me the wrong way. No offence.”

“None taken but she’s not my girl.”

She gives him a bored look. “Can you please go now? I need to get ready.”

“Tess, you need to come to terms that we are legally married. Why do you want to hide?”

Her eyes widen. “Are you serious right now? You broke up with her not a month ago, don’t you think it’d look a little suspect to her? As it is she hates my guts, don’t give her even more ammunition. Imagine if she goes to the press that we’re married for Poppy. I know she keeps your dick wet, Scott, but you have to be realistic here.”

He pulls on his hair, his eyes angry. “For the last time, I’m not sleeping with her!”

She shrugs, nonchalant. “For now. But history dictated that you may relapse, because you always do. Don’t forget, I know you well, Scott,” she says quietly, turning her back to him. “Now, if you excuse me, I want to get dressed. I don’t care if you want to tell her or not. Just keep her in her lane.”

The tension cuts through the air.

“Why did you change your bed?”

So he did notice. Although it has been almost a year since he was last in her room, and God knows how many bedposts he had seen in his lifetime.

“Because, like some things, that bed belonged in the past. Now, please get out.”

* * *

_“Was our relationship a joke to you?”_

_“No, Jackie. I told you. I genuinely liked you.”_

_“Yeah. Before Her Majesty rolled back in town with her dead brother’s daughter to lure you back in.”_

She waits for his answer.

_“How did you turn into this heartless bitch?”_

Oof. First time hearing it directed to her, the pain was kniving. Second time around toward another woman, she just feels like writing her a condolences card.

_“You made me this way!”_

She doesn’t blame her. Not a bit.

_“I didn’t do shit! You were the one who spread lies and rumors about things I’ve never said. I’ve known her longer than I had you, Jackie. She’s been with me through so many ups and downs. I will always take her side.”_

That was… nice.

Then she hears a thud.

 _Whoa_.

She opens the door and sees Scott clutching to his reddened cheek. Mrs. Crossfit seemed to have given him the right hook. She purses her lips, torn between laughing and clapping Jackie on the back because atta girl, all girls should have a chance to give their jerk ex-boyfriend a punch, or to throw down because nobody hurts her best friend, no matter how much of a jerk he is.

“Can the both of you take this ruckus elsewhere, because I have neighbors,” she says, tapping her foot in a show of impatience.

“Oooh, here comes the Queen bitch,” Jackie says sarcastically.

“Why, thank _you_ , sweetheart. This Queen bitch would like for you to collect yourself and be gone before I make you. If you want to talk shit about me and my dead brother, who happened to be one of your _friends_ , go and do it in your own front lawn,” Tessa shoots back, raising an eyebrow. Jackie may have been in the Crossfit, but Tessa has BICEPS.

Jackie has the gall to look slightly ashamed. Slightly being the keyword. “You think you can go around stealing other woman’s man just because you’re the so-called Canadian sweetheart? Bet the press didn’t know about your tryst with Andrew, eh?” she replies, her tone threatening.

Tessa steps forward, standing in between Scott and Jackie, towering above the woman. “Now, why you gotta go and do that cause I was brimming with _respect_ on how you were juggling THREE MEN at the same time last year and Scottie here was none-the-wiser. Word of advice, if you wanna throw threats, clean up your act first. It’s no surprise how quick men squeal about the bitch they are no longer fucking at the sight of ten Gs,” she says, leaning down to whisper into Jackie’s ear, trying her best to channel her inner Cardi B.

Jackie steps back, her face reddening. Scott is heard muttering _‘what the fuck’_.

“Really, to you I bow,” Tessa continues, smirking.

“And for the record, he does love you. You got the whole DR and Tiffany’s charm treatment. Pretty much the highest compliment in Scott Moir’s book. _I’ve_ never gotten anything,” she says, shrugging. _Maybe a beautiful wedding ring, which shall be returned in a few months, so it’s neither here nor there,_ she thinks.

She turns to look at Scott, whose face is so red it’s giving the China flag a heavy competition. “I give you two minutes. It’s either you follow her wherever you want to continue this screaming match at, or I’ll call the cops. And Jackie, think twice before you mess with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see how beautiful our Queen looks like tonight at the Juno award??


	21. Chapter 21

He doesn’t wait for Jackie’s car to leave Tessa’s driveway before he closes the door behind him. He goes searching, and finds the woman singing off tune to Carrie Underwood’s The Champion as she does the dishes. His frown gives way to a smile; the way that she showed up at the front door all gangsta was totally different from what she used to be, diplomatic and soft-mannered.

Motherhood has really changed her. There is still the soft centre, but now she is surrounded by tough edges.

_Are you sure it wasn’t you who thickened her skin?_

Scott shakes his head. Tessa’s words about Jackie’s (many) affairs reverberated in his head.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Jackie?”

She turns on her feet, shrugging, like it is obvious. “Because it was none of my business?”

Her honest answer hurts. There was a point in their lives where she had disregarded everything concerning him, and rightly so.

He folds his arms as he leans against the kitchen island. “Why?”

She turns the tap off and wipes her hands. Then she turns to the fridge, taking out an ice pack. “Because I need some sort of insurance when it comes to your girl. I could tell she’s a squealer,” she answers. Then, she quickly holds up her hand in apology. “Again, no offence. And I was right.”

He is kind of tired hearing the ‘your girl’ comment. He gets that it is her way to distant and set herself apart from him, but why can’t she just give? “For the eighteen thousandth time, she’s not my girl anymore.”

She waves her hand around, dismissing the topic. “Here,” she continues, handing him the ice pack. “That’s quite a shiner. I almost wanted to high five her,” she says cheekily.

He rolls his eyes. He’s pretty sure if Tessa was less classy, she would have kicked him where it matters, and rightfully so. He’s thankful for small miracles.

He places the ice pack on his throbbing cheek, shooting her a grateful look.

She waves it off, then putters around preparing a sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, edges cut off, before pouring a glass of milk. Then, she opens one overhead cabinet and pulls out a medicine box. She pops out an ibuprofen and places it on the plate, next to the sandwich.

“Eat up, then take the painkiller. That’s gonna hurt like a bitch in a few hours,” she says, pushing the plate to him.

“Thank you, Tess,” he says, touched. It’s nothing new, this taking care of him, it’s just, he’s forgotten how much he misses this. “And I would have believed you if you had told me about her.”

She shakes her head, a half smile on her lips. “That’s the problem, Scott. You think too highly of yourself. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Poppy.”

* * *

_“And for the record, he does love you. You got the whole DR and Tiffany’s charm treatment. Pretty much the highest compliment in Scott Moir’s book. I’ve never gotten anything.”_

Her words pingpong in his brain.

It’s true. She gave up her ballerina dream and her leg for him. And twenty two years of her life.

“Hey, Uncle Scott.”

“Hey, Pops,” he greets, picking the little girl and placing her on the couch next to him. “What’s up?”

“I’m bored,” she complains, picking on the fibreglass of her cast. “I’ve finished two episodes of Paw Patrol. Can I watch something more grown up?”

He smiles. Tessa is in the kitchen working on her emails, as he is supposed to be doing the same. Since Florida, he has quit representative, appearances and coaching, doing none of the things he had talked about doing. It was like he had forgotten about his life as a skater, his country, and if he was being real, his family and friends.

“What do you have in mind?”

Poppy beckons him with her good hand so that she could whisper in his ear.

Grinning from ear to ear, he nods his head and stands up. “Let me check with Aunt T, okay?”

In the kitchen, he finds her hard at work, glasses on, hair up in her signature high bun. He walks slowly to stand behind her.

_—— cordially inviting you and Scott Moir as guest speakers for our FitSpirit event in August._

Archive.

“Why did you archive that without asking me?”

She whirls on her seat, clearly startled. “What?”

“That. FitSpirit invited us as speakers. Why didn’t you run that by me?” he asks again, curious.

She shrugs. “I ran about a million things by you early this year which you turned down. I stopped asking,” she replies, turning back to continue with her emails. “Did you need something?”

He continues standing there, jaw clenching, his brain dissecting her words.

He did turn down a lot of meetings and appearances for the sake of being in Florida last year.

She looks so unaffected as she archives another email requesting another joint appearance.

“Let’s do the FitSpirit.”

“Nah,” she says, eyes on the laptop, her fingers running on the syntax of the keyboard. So far she has archived two more requests for joint appearances and he peeks at the inbox; 85 unread messages.

“I’m serious.”

She pauses her typing, and turns to face him, her face expressionless. “Scott, we don’t have to. We’re not partners anymore.”

“That was a premature call on your part.”

She looks taken aback. “What’s so premature about it? You have other things in life, I have other things to prioritise. I can’t put you first and keep on asking when your answer would always be no.”

“Is your aim in life now that you’re retired from skating to hurt me with your every word because I swear, Tess, it’s working.”

She falls silence, her gaze falling on her lap. “I’m sorry, Scott. I don’t know what you want me to say,” she admits, sighing. “I thought that was what we agreed on.”

“I know I was a jerk, T, but that announcement, I couldn’t get over that.”

She tilts her head, contemplating. “How did you want to word it?”

Scott sighs, running a hand through his hair. He paces the kitchen, remembering the Tessa’s Instagram and Twitter announcement made a few months ago. “I didn’t want to quit being partners,” he blurts.

Tessa inhales deeply. “Truthfully, at this point in time, I don’t feel like there’s any point continuing being partners.”

“Why not?” he chokes out.

“We’re not skating anymore,” she replies, stating the obvious.

“We could be,” he supplies, pleading.

“I’m past that, Scott,” she says quietly.

“You don’t want to skate with me anymore?”

She merely smiles, a sad smile, before closing her laptop and standing up. “I’m going to check on Poppy,” she says, passing by him and squeezing his shoulder, leaving him to the silence of the kitchen.

* * *

It’s surprising how quickly everything comes together if he puts his mind to it.

He surveys his handiwork with the kitchen counter and admires the marble-look quartz top he had chosen. White and grey, and initially he thought it would look drabby, it ends up looking sleek and sophisticated.

“This kitchen is slowly resembling more and more of a certain somebody’s kitchen,” Charlie comments, crossing his arms, smirking.

Scott shrugs, no apologies. He does have a solid image of who’s going to take the reins of his kitchen from day one. “So sue me.”

“Bring her around,” Charlie encourages. “I don’t think she has seen the works you have put on this house lately.”

Scott sighs. “If I could find a way to, I would.”

Charlie clicks his tongue. “Trouble in paradise?”

Snorting, he closes the drawers he has just finished assembling. “I think she’s really miserable with me.”

“I’d be the same if I had to marry you too.”

He decides to take the insult like a champ, instead of bristling like he would most of the time. “I’m trying to make it better, Charlie.”

“You screwed up royally last year, Scott. The fact that she actually tolerated your presence in her house is a miracle,” his brother reminds him callously.

He slumps against the counter, the hard work finally taking its toll. “What can I do?”

Charlie scrutinises his face. “What do you want from her, actually?”

He contemplates his answer. He knows of only one word that reflects his wish. “Everything.”

“Just a few months ago you didn’t want to have to do anything with her. What changed?”

“I was mad when she asked for time. I kept thinking of how could she not know me for being together for the past 21 years?” he confesses.

Charlie chuckles. “She knows you too well, Scott. Look at your reaction, you jumped to Jackie, and like the stupid person that you are, completely ignoring the fact of how much of a jibe that is to her.”

He buries his face in his palms, frustrated, regretting his choices and past action. That day when Jackie attacked him in front of Tessa’s was icing on the cake. Was he in love with Jackie to be making decisions that ended up jeopardising his existing relationships with family, with Tessa? _Hindsight, fucking hindsight._

“She doesn’t want to skate with me anymore.”

“Damn, bro.”

“I’d appreciate some fucking input, Charlie.”

“I don’t know what say, man. What do you want me to say?”  
  
“I don’t know, man. Do I have hope, at least?”

“Have you hustled and given it your best?”

He’s silent, pondering his answer, then shakes his head. “I don’t want to rush her. I didn’t want to repeat my mistake.”

“Nobody’s rushing anybody,” Charlie says. “Hustle gently and discreetly.” He gestures to the kitchen, to the surrounding area of the house. “This? This is you subconsciously hustling. Let her know you want all the way in. That she’s it. That you’re going nowhere. That all the Taylor Swift’s lyrics are meant for her.”

Scott scratches his head, refraining a chuckle. “Uh, I’m guessing not ‘Look What You Made Me Do’?”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “More along 'Back To December',” he comments, pausing, remembering certain things. “How apt. The irony.” He chuckles.

“Really, Charlie? I didn’t know you jam to TayTay a lot.”

“Hey, when you have two daughters and a wife who are crazy about T.Swift, then come at me. Til then, you deal.”


	22. Chapter 22

She enters the house, wariness looming. If she was honest to herself, lately she doesn’t feel comfortable in her own home anymore. Seeing Scott’s face daily serves as a reminder of the incredible hurt that she had to go through last year.

She’s adult enough to admit her role in the demise of the relationship, but never in her wildest dreams that when she had asked for a bit of space and time for growth, would her partner of twenty one years lash out and start dating the only woman who would be like the ultimate retribution, and it was.

Initially, she couldn’t process the betrayal and sadness when she found out about Jackie in Lake Louise. The whole tour, she had tried keeping it together, for the sake of their partnership and the fans. And she admitted to projecting and baiting, being extra affectionate on ice, under the pretence of acting, but really, it felt good having Jackie throwing daggers her way whenever she was around for a visit.

She was never really angry, just resigned to the fact that Scott had chosen either not to wait or understand her pleading for time. She was in acceptance, that maybe, the both of them were never meant to be, and was about to move on with her life, when tragedy struck and she had lost both her brother and sister in-law.

Having him too near triggers back the hurt and the memories that accompanied his presence. She realises it stems from a feeling of hatred and betrayal which in all honesty, is not proportionate to his actions. _Yes, Tessa, it’s unfortunate that he chose his first skating partner as his main girl now, but when are you going to get over that fact? Who cares anymore? Who gives a fuck who is he fucking? Why can’t you be the bigger person and move on?_

“God, I have! Jesus Christ!” she shouts to the empty living room.

“Tess?”

She cringes, totally forgetting the existence of her chronic house guest. Poppy is with Kevin and Michele for the weekend. “Sorry, I’m just, texting and being vocal at the same time,” she calls out, smacking her forehead discreetly.

Scott appears from the laundry room, a basket full of clean clothes in his hands. “Who you texting? Sounds like you’re pissed off at them,” he jokes, albeit cautiously.

She gives him a small smile, feeling slightly guilty about the conversation that went down a few days ago. “Hey, Scott. Nah, just somebody from Nivea.” She looks at the laundry basket in his hand. “Thank you for doing the laundry.”

Scott rolls his eyes as he settles on the couch to start folding the clothes. “I’ve done it before, Tess. You gotta stop thanking me for every single thing.”

She bites her lip, chastised. “I appreciate you doing things around the house, Scott.”

“We’re a team, T,” he says gently. Then he pats the space on the couch next to him. “Wanna sit down and tell me who made you come to Jesus?” he asks, giving her a small smile.

She chuckles, weighing her options. If he could read her mind, he wouldn’t be so open and friendly. She can go straight to her room and rot in there before needing to work on dinner, or she could start making an effort of being friends again with her ex-skating partner. He is, after all, doing her a huge favor with the whole getting married debacle.

_Life is short, T. Exhibit A, your own brother._

“Yeah, I think I could chill for a few before starting dinner,” she announces, plopping down on the couch. She stretches her legs, feeling the earlier anxiety slowly leaving her body.

“I’ve started dinner. Lasagna okay?”

She turns to look at Scott, whose face is a mix of cautiousness and hope. “Definitely okay, Scott. Thank you.”

His smile widens.

Seeing him beaming at her with hope in those brown eyes proves to be too much. _Baby steps, Virtue._ “Urm, do I have enough time for a jog before dinner then?”

His face falls slightly. She wants to reach out to comfort him. “I can go with you.”

“Didn’t you go in the morning?”

“I can jog again.”

She smiles gently, hoping it is enough to tell him her hesitation. She appreciates his efforts at being friends again but she can only take a little at a time. “It’s okay, Scott. I’ll be back in an hour in time for dinner.”

After changing into a pair of workout clothes, she bides him farewell and jogs slowly to the nearest park. Poppy won’t be back til Sunday, and it is bound to be an awkward night. She wonders why Scott doesn’t take the opportunity to go back to Ilderton.

She keeps to her pace, mulling about the conversation they had a few days ago in the kitchen. He was right, it might be a hasty decision, but at the time she couldn’t find a solution. She had too much bitterness which stemmed from disappointment after disappointment.

Maybe she and Scott can find a balance now that they are not skating anymore. To show a united front, especially in court, it might be good for them to do a few joint appearances. She knows the talks in social media; everybody has been talking about the abrupt end to their partnership.

In a way, it was a good thing that she did, breaking free, never to depend on him again in the future. Scott being a crutch for her had been like something that she had come to take for granted, resulting in having such a high expectation from her side on their relationships. From her talks with Dr. Maggie, she understood that eventually people grow apart, even those who are blood related, much less partners or lovers.

She admits there was a better way of announcing her retirement, and this time around, she will take Scott’s ideas into consideration. She knows he’s trying, the least she could do is to co-operate.

“Tessa?”

Startled, she whirls around to the voice calling from behind. Her heart quickens more than the result of the physical exertion. “Sam.”

They both slow to a halt, staring at each other, smiles blooming on each other’s faces. “I’ve never run into you here before,” he says, hands on his hips, the lopsided smile doing things to her body.

“Just wanted to clear my head today,” she replies, her own smile shy. She remembers that night a few weeks back, where she had rushed to his place only to be turned down gently by the man.

He nods, understanding. They fall into an easy walk, side by side. “How’s Poppy? I hope the arm is healing well.”

“Yes, one more appointment next week and the cast is off. Thank you,” she says gratefully.

“How about you, Tessa? How’s life been treating you?” he asks, a genuine look on his face.

She shrugs. “It’s okay. The court date is next week.”

His eyes soften. “Are you guys ready?”

“Yeah. I think. I mean, we are trying to do everything right,” she replies, giving him a small small.

“I’m glad, Tessa. I hope everything goes smoothly for the three of you.”

“Thank you, Sam. I really appreciate it.”

“I run here. Every Tuesday and Friday afternoon after work.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They stare at each other, their steps halting. “Maybe we can run into each other again,” she says nonchalantly, her heart thudding in her chest.

His ocean blue eyes piercing. “Maybe.” He starts to reach over for her face, before withdrawing him hand again.

She looks down at the retreating hand, disappointed. “I need to go back. I promise to sit down for dinner with Scott tonight.”

“Yeah. I need to make a move too.” He buries his hands into his shorts pockets. “Let me walk you to your car.”

Hope blooms in her chest. “That’d be nice. Thank you, Sam.”

“Just an excuse for an extra couple of minutes with you, Miss Virtue,” he replies, smiling. Which turns into a frown. “Or is it Mrs. Moir now?”

She looks down at her legs. “No.”

He breathes out audibly. “Okay.”

She doesn’t really notice the drive back home. She questions the whole thing; her decision to go for a jog that afternoon, and subsequently accidentally meeting up with Sam. What is the universe trying to tell her?

She feels giddy, slightly hopeful, and looking forward to next Tuesday.

Going into the house, she doesn’t notice the spring in her steps. She calls out a simple ‘hey, I’m back’ to Scott, before dashing to her room to get a quick shower. She reminisces about the hand that didn’t touch her cheek; she is brought back to when he had held her face so tenderly, the day before her wedding to another man.

Is it okay to think about another man while being married to another? It’s not cheating, per se, since she is not romantically committed to said husband, right?

She dresses in a pair of loose t-shirt and sweat pants, totally not caring how unsexy the getup is with penguins in bowties littering the material of her pants. She bounds into the kitchen, and halts in her steps to see the table set for two, with a single peony in a vase set in the middle.

“Hey, you hungry?” Scott asks, smiling, as he places the baking dish containing Alma Moir’s famous lasagna onto the table.

She lets out a small laugh, the smell so amazing, her tummy is practically begging to be fed. “Starving.” She looks down at her attire. “But I feel I need to change?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Sit,” Scott orders, as he pulls out a chair for her. “You look beautiful in anything.”

Tessa blushes. She needs to get used to being in good terms with Scott again, he lays it on thick, sometimes he’s not aware of his own flirting. “It smells so good, Scott,” she comments, awarding him with a smile.

“Thank you,” he says, beaming, taking his own seat. “How was your run?”

Tessa bites her lip. “It was a good run.”

“I’m glad.”

They eat in comfortable silence. She notices Scott’s plate going empty fast and she cuts another portion before serving it to him wordlessly. He thanks her with a smile. “Thanks, T.”

She grins. “I’m just the server. Thank the chef.”

He chuckles. “I miss you, kiddo,” he says, his hand enveloping hers gently from across the table.

She looks at the connection, finally feeling she could let things go. It’s not complicated really. Scott is always going to be her friend, no matter what. “I miss you too, Scott.” With that, her heart feels so much lighter in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi? Did you enjoy the video posted by Miss Virtue yesterday?


	23. Chapter 23

Scott closes his bedroom door, feeling relieved for the first time in months. They had sat down for a civilised dinner, just the two of them, without Poppy as a buffer, and it has given him the sparkle of hope. She had smiled and laughed, the first genuine ones he hasn’t heard around him in months. Like a parched man scouring the desert, tonight’s dinner just watered his soul.

The big day is looming upon them. They have strategised and planned to the full of their capabilities. Tessa has always been the strategists between the two of them, and it shouldn’t surprise her how well she’s covered all bases. She has hired a private detectives to dig into the McGuires’ past, whether there’s any skeletons in the closet.

“What did you find out?” he had asked during one of the meetings with Tom.

She had smiled serenely. “Something that shouldn’t be used lightly. That should be our last resort.”

The day of the court hearing, Poppy agrees to stay with Kate.

“Are you guys going to say bad words to Grandpa Dan and Grandmother Gina?” Poppy asks.

“No!” Tessa vehemently denies. “What makes you think that, shrimp?”

Poppy shrugs from her seat at the back. “I heard Aunt Jo talking about it to Uncle Kev. They said you’re going to fight with Grandpa Dan and Grandmother Gina.”

Tessa exchanges looks with Scott. “We are not going to say bad words to them, Pops,” Scott answers gently, looking at Poppy through the rear view mirror.

“But isn’t that how adults fight with each other?” Poppy asks again.

Tessa wonders who gave her that impression. “Who told you that?”

“Kaylie’s mommy and daddy fight all the time. Kaylie said she heard words like assholes and beeches all the time too,” Poppy reports as Tessa and Scott simultaneously cringe.

“First of all, Poppy Alana Virtue, you’re not repeating those words again, EVER. Not in front of me, not in front of Aunt T, not in front of anybody. I would know cause I have eyes and ears, EVERYWHERE,” Scott says sternly. Damn parents and their loose lips. He’s thankful for his own who never spoke badly to each other or about other people in front of him and his siblings growing up.

“Second, we are not going to fight with your grandpa and grandmother. We are going to discuss nicely with them about taking care of you,” he explains.

Poppy bites her lips, nodding vigorously. “Yes, sir,” she mumbles.

Scott sighs, hating being so strict with her. “Ladies don’t say words like what you heard to other people. Have you heard aunt T saying those words, ever?”

Tessa looks at him, giving him the stink eye. He knows exactly how Aunt T has repeated those words and their variations to some deserving people in the past. But eventually she gives me a relented smile.

Poppy shakes her head. “No.”

“That’s right. We don’t say bad words to others, even when we are angry at them,” he continues, exchanging a smile with Tessa. Never in their 22 years partnership had Tessa ever called him names before, and he knows he deserved at least a few, especially in recent circumstances.

“Like how you and aunt T were when you were angry at each other?”

Scott chokes on his own saliva while Tessa blanches.

“What do you mean?”

Poppy shrugs again. “You guys either don’t talk or aunt T would frown or you would just look sad.”

She shots him an apologetic look. “Sometimes I do get angry at uncle Scott but not for long, shrimp. In the end, we always become friends again,” Tessa says, looking at him with a gentle smile on her face.

He breathes out in relief.

They step into the court room hand in hand. When he made the attempt to hold hers, he was thankful that she didn’t pull away. It is the first time after weeks since their wedding that he has the opportunity to have her hand in his again.

“My client would like to express that the defendants are not committed to the child, having no previous experience rearing a child before, and what’s with their occupation and lifestyle, the McGuires feel like they would be more financially and emotionally stable to be the custodian to Poppy Virtue.”

Scott and Tessa exchange looks, with him refraining from rolling his eyes. The McGuires must have been living in a cave somewhere. Tom looks at them for permission. Tessa sighs and nods.

Their lawyer walks up to the platform where the judge is residing and hands in a few documents for his perusal. He then continues to pass a few copies of the same document to the plaintiff’s table.

The sound of paper rustling fills the silent court room and the defendant team allows the information to be absorbed. Tessa plays with her fingers nervously, and Scott reaches out to squeeze them gently.

“As you can observe, those are the statement accounts of both Scott Patrick Moir and Tessa Jane Virtue as of June, 2019. Both have made a substantial earning from prize moneys before their retirement. Both Mr. Moir and Ms. Virtue have made multiple investments locally and overseas, on top of strengthening their business partnership for the past few years by dabbling in sponsorship and organising tours. Their income in 2018 itself, from sponsorship, investments, prize money and their cross-country tour amounts up to CND 3.5 million for Ms. Virtue, and CND 2.2 million for Mr. Moir,” Tom relays calmly.

The honorable judge nods and gestures with his hand for Tom to continue. A few whispers go off harshly from the plaintiff table. Tessa shrinks deeper into her seat, and Scott moves to wrap her shoulders within his arm.

“The two continue to live modestly, with the couple living temporarily in the home that Ms. Virtue purchased almost a decade ago while Mr. Moir continues to build their home from scratch in Ilderton.”

Tessa stiffens in his arm at the mention of their home in Ilderton. He had run the idea to Tom to make it look like their relationship is solid and that they are talking about the future. Well, it is not wrong from his side, at least.

“For the future, the couple has solid plans to invest in real estates and show business. Mr. Moir and Ms. Virtue have a knack in organising skating tours, and they would like to continue pursuing the venture locally and also internationally.”

Tom throws a look at the plaintiff table, with Dan and Gina looking on in disbelief. “We hope with my clients being very transparent regarding their earnings, the plaintiffs could spare the same courtesy, seeing the McGuires spare no change in going for luxurious vacations almost every month, having real estates in the US, Europe and South Africa despite the spending not matching the earning.”

“Objection, your Honor!” the McGuires’ lawyer calls promptly.

Tom shuts his mouth, pursing his lips.

“Baseless statement and pure conjecture,” the female lawyer continues, as she bends down to listen to the harsh whispers coming from her clients.

“That’s slander!” Dan shouts from his seat, despite the obvious attempts from his wife and counsel to calm him down.

The session ends with the judge demanding the McGuires’ financial statements and tax return due for next hearing.

They are hopeful. The tantrum that Dan threw in court was enough to play at his emotional instability. In fact, it made him look guilty, if not scared.

Scott is aware that Tessa knows something which she is not ready to disclose about the McGuires. It’s true, when push comes to shove, Tessa Virtue is not to be trifled with.

He’s more hopeful in terms of his relationship with Tessa though. She goes out to jog Tuesdays and Fridays, and comes back much lighter, laughing at his lame jokes. The hard shell surrounding her from early this year has softened, and if jogs are the reasons to make her open up to him, he’d let her run a marathon.

“Hey, T?”

“Hmm?” she hums, turning her head slightly, indicating she is all ears despite her eyes on the recipe book in front of her.

“I need to pick your brain a bit about my backyard.”

She turns to face him fully. “You have a backyard?”

He shrugs, his heart thudding slightly. She knows he owns a rundown property, and she knows he’s working on it. “I do now.”

Her lips curve upwards, as she smiles with her eyes. “That sounds awesome, Scott.”

“Yeah. I think you have the eye to make it even more awesome.”

She chuckles. “You don’t mind everything looking ‘sterile’ and ‘boring’?”

Scott rolls his eyes, knowing the description came off a Tumblr account who hates Tessa and anything that involves her, including that issue of Home Deco where her house was featured. “This place is anything but sterile and boring. I want a place where we can BBQ on the weekends, play football maybe, for Poppy to run away...” he trails, hoping to project his hopes and dreams of the future to her.

She nods, looking thoughtful, recipe book forgotten. “You have a budget in mind?”

“I trust you not to bankrupt me, kiddo,” he jokes.

She comes back from her jog looking positively radiant one day.

“I’ve got an idea for your backyard,” she announces as she grabs a bottle of iced cold drink from the fridge.

He rounds the corner from the office, excited to hear her suggestions. “I’m all ears.”

She gulps the water daintily, like everything else she’s done in life. “I know how it’s gonna be one of the favourite parts of your house, so let’s go for something rustic and manly. Maybe an outdoor fire pit for cold nights, and a jacuzzi.”

His heart falters slightly. “You don’t have to make it too manly. I do want it to suit you and Poppy.”

She halts her movement and turns to face him fully, her face unreadable. “It IS your house, Scott.”

“That I want to share with you guys.”

She’s quiet then. She closes the fridge gently. “I guess we could ferry her to and fro over the years.”

_We could, together. I don’t want you in a separate home, ever again._

“Sounds like a good idea, Tess.”

* * *

“A jacuzzi? Shit, I may need to pay a visit every single day then,” Charlie says, laughing.

Scott chuckles. “Not too sure the door will be opened for you every time then.”

“Aww, come on!” His brother nudges him with his foot. “So, things going well with T?”

A smile blooms on his lips. He’s hopeful. “Yeah. I think we are friends now?”

Charlie claps his once on the back. “I’m glad, bro. Don’t mess it up. You do tend to sabotage yourself,” he says as a reminder of summer 2018.

Ain’t that the truth.

“What if she doesn’t want what you want, Scott?”

He stares really hard at the label peeling off his beer bottle. Then sighs. “Can you please not jinx it?”

“Real talk, Scottie. It's my job to play the Devil's advocate. What if she has fallen out of love with you, and open to dating another man?”

Hearing about it instead of only thinking about it is making it even more of a possibility in his mind.

“Shit,” Charlie curses. “Come on, I didn’t mean to make you look like that, bro.”

He snaps his head up. “Look like what?”

Charlie gestures at his face with the hand holding his beer bottle. “Like someone has taken away Tessa from you for good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, I'm no lawyer, having no experience attending a hearing before. I apologise for the time away, I went on vacation and it was AWESOME.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might recognise some of the dialogs taken from my previous story. I'm boring and repetitive that way. Apologies.

They are friends now, she thinks.

“What’s on your playlist?”

He looks at her sideways. “Wanna swap our iPod?”

She shrugs. _Why not._ She guesses he’s the type that at least has a Drake and maybe a Hozier on it.

_Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see_   
_Sometimes your words just hypnotize me_   
_And I just love your flashy ways_   
_Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid (uh)_

Her laugh just erupts from her body. “Oh my God, Sam. You gotta come back to 2019!”

He chuckles. “Hey, Biggie lives forever yo. I am from the big NY. What can I say?”

Laughing, she shakes her head as she enjoys the music pounding in her ears. They jog wordlessly through the park, with her side-eyeing him occasionally due to the chuckles coming from him.

“What,” she asks, acting offended.

“You’re so emo. I need to enlighten your playlist.”

She snorts, wiping the sweat on her forehead. She’s enjoying the August sun. “Says you Mr. I’m a Creep, I’m a Weirdo.”

He rolls his eyes. “Come on. At least I don’t have pining Michelle Branch on mine.”

She blushes. _Damn it._ She forgot to delete those.

Then he smiles gently. “But I’m loving all the Simon & Garfunkel. You’re an old soul. Hall & Oates is slightly confusing though. And pretty relieved I’m not hearing TSwift in here.”

She laughs again. “You speak too soon, mister.”

He chuckles, running a hand through his messy golden hair. The effect leaves her breathless. “Someone’s very happy today. Those dimples are doing things to me. Stop it,” he says good-naturedly. 

Her laugh lines relaxes to a smile. “I can’t help it when I’m happy here.”

His own smile blooming as his cheeks color slightly. It is so adorable to see somebody so handsome so shy around her.

On Friday, the humidity is slightly overwhelming. Maybe it is the Indian summer hitting them too soon in the season.

“You’re doing pretty well with our weather,” she comments, keeping her pace steady.

“I was from New York remember, not Florida.”

That hits a nerve. She knows he has no idea. “Are you stalking me?” she asks playfully, expertly changing the subject.

He chuckles. “Miss Virtue, I believe you were the one following me.”

She giggles. It is plenty true. She is the one who crashes his jogging schedule. “Okay Dr. Harwood. Let’s just agree we’re sharing a common jogging path.”

He nods, smiling mischievously. His baby blues twinkle and her heart beats furiously. “Let’s.”

They run clean for about twenty minutes, stopping once they reach the end of the forest. “I knew that I should never bet myself against an Olympian,” he huffs, bending slightly to catch his breath.

Tessa chuckles. The sun is reflected on his hair. So surreal. “Ex-Olympian, you mean. I haven’t been doing my dues.”

“You’re still solid, trust me. What else do you do other than running?”

She shrugs. “I do yoga, pilates, kickboxing sometimes. The typical fit chick workouts.”

“You don’t get that kind of abs and biceps with only those, though,” he says, gesturing to her general direction.

She grins, shaking her head. “Dr. Harwood, were you checking me out?”

He blushes, which puts all sorts of woodly creatures flitting inside Tessa’s stomach. This adonis behaving like an unruly kid is doing things to her body. Her eyes flit to his pink lips.   
Subconsciously, she licks hers.

“For what it’s worth, I’m kind of checking you out too,” she adds, putting him out of his misery.

“Kind of?” he jokes, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes fall to his deltoids and biceps. The t-shirt he’s wearing clings deliciously to his taut stomach. She wants to feel the washboard abs again, if she’s honest to herself.

Tessa smirks. “Did you model before?”

He looks surprised. “How do you know?”

_Cause I kind of stalked you online? Cause I’m still not over you?_ “I’m just shooting it out there and I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I was with A&F for awhile to get through college. Not my finest moments,” he answers, looking embarrassed.

Oh, wow. She blushes just thinking about those dark red sweatpants. And the V leading down to the promised land...

“Do you still have those sweatpants?” she blurts.

Sam turns his head slowly, his own smirk holding. “Why? Are you interested in seeing me in it?”

Her heart thuds dangerously in her chest. “Are you offering?”

* * *

The way he stared at her lips…

“How was your jog, kiddo?”

Startled, she almost drops the water bottle she’s been hugging.

Scott chuckles. “Didn’t mean to scare you, T.”

Tessa laughs nervously. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

He raises an eyebrow as he leans against the fridge, crossing his legs in a relaxed manner. “About Pop’s birthday party?”

She nods quickly. “Yep. Strawberry shortcake or double choc cheese?” she asks, diverting her thoughts.

“Definitely strawberry shortcake,” he answers, nodding. He takes a step closer and reaches a hand out to her face. Tessa freezes.

“Your lipgloss smudged a bit,” he murmurs, rubbing at the edge of her bottom lip.

She subconsciously bites her bottom lip, remembering the event that caused the smudge.

“You went running with lipgloss on, kiddo?” he teases. “Did you think you’d run into the lady from that Vogue magazine or something?”

She chuckles, trying to slow down the rapid beatings of her heart. “Anna Wintour? Here in London? Psht.” She tugs at her ponytail, trying to occupy her shaking hands. “My lips get too dry under the sun.” Then she claps her hands once, diverting his attention. “So, cake is settled. The theme?”

Scott pulls back, crossing his arms to his chest. “Girl is crazy about unicorns,” he suggests.

“She is. But that’s too overdone though.”

“We can make it fun. Unicorns on ice?” he says, wriggling his brows.

She laughs. “No way the Cricket Club is going to allow so much mess on the ice, Scott.”

“Hey, we’ll fork out extra,” he replies, shrugging. Then his eyes widen, complete with sparkles. “How about my backyard?” he asks, hopeful.

She smiles. “Yeah?”

“I mean, we need your expert eye to turn it into a place fit for a birthday bash, but yeah, we got the space, I just installed the BBQ pit and outdoor kitchen, and I’ve been meaning to bring you around to it,” he rushes, wringing his hands together.

He looks excited and nervous, and it’s endearing to her. Her smile grows and she reaches over to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Sounds good, Scott. Let’s drop by your place tomorrow and brainstorm. Poppy would be so delighted.”

“You think so?”

“I _know_ so.”

* * *

Moirs and Virtues together are a force to be reckoned with.

Alma and Kate came up with the most epic strawberry-shortcake flavored unicorn cake. The massive cake is surrounded by smaller rainbow-colored cupcakes with stardust littering the toppings.

Jordan came through with inflatable unicorn cup holders and lawn decorations. Michele had come up with colorful helium balloons tied to the trees. There’s a huge plastic pool as a ball pit with an inflatable miniature castle and moat attached to it.

Scott is busy directing traffic when Tessa approaches him.

“You bought her the doll house,” she states in an accusing tone.

He cringes sheepishly. “I kinda made a promise to her?” he replies, recalling his conversation with Poppy a few months ago.

Tessa rolls her eyes. “We made a deal to buy that for Christmas, remember? You’re such a pushover, Scott.”

“I promise to cut the Christmas wish list a bit,” he vows, holding his fingers up in scout salute.

Scott’s lawn is full with cars of their relatives, especially the many Moirs residing in Ilderton. The kitchen is buzzing with activities; Alma is commandeering while Kate is the co-captain. Charlie is manning the grill while Joe and Paul are busy entertaining the grandkids.

“Did you invite your dad?” Scott asks, pulling Tessa who is busy arranging the cupcakes to his side.

She bites her bottom lip.

“Tessa,” Scott begins. “It’s the day for family. And he’s still family,” he reminds her gently.

She sighs. “I did mention the party to him.”

His smile widens. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

Her own smile blooming. He has always encouraged the best from her.

“Tessa?”

The familiar voice calls out to her, and she braces herself. It’s been awhile since their last conversation, months even. She whirls around on her heels, planting a smile on her face. “Hi, Cara.”

Scott’s cousin holds up a hand, waving shyly. “It’s looking to be a great birthday bash,” she comments.

Tessa smiles placatingly. She’s known the woman for decades, despite the talks behind her back that she knew had taken place, Poppy’s birthday party is not the place to hash it out. “Thanks for coming, Cara.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” the older woman murmurs, stepping closer, holding out her hands awkwardly for a hug.

Tessa steps into Cara’s arms dutifully, and feels the woman wrapping her arms around her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Cara says softly into her ear.

She could choose to ignore the apology, but she picks to be the bigger person. “Don’t mention it, Cara. Water under the bridge now.” She has no intentions of ever talking about second half of 2018 again. To her, it’s almost as good as buried. What’s the point of rehashing that particular depressing period?

She pulls away, still having a smile plastered on her face. She can forgive, but it’s a little hard to forget. “Let’s go and see what the birthday girl is up to, shall we?” she says, walking away, ignoring how Cara’s face falls.

When Scott rolls out the cake cart, everyone ohhs and claps excitedly. He beams and crouches in front of Poppy. “Time to sing you the birthday song, Pops!”

“I want my cousins to blow the candles with me,” Poppy announces shyly, hiding her face behind Tessa’s thigh.

Q and Peter dash to the front, each pulling on Poppy’s arms affectionately. “Come on, Poppy. Let’s blow em candles!” Peter cheers, pushing the girls in front of the cart.

The family sings off-tuned happy birthday song and by the time they are done, they are all chanting for Poppy to blow the candles.

Tessa bends down to whisper into Poppy’s ears. “Make a wish, baby.” She feels Scott squeezing her waist.

Poppy nods, and pulling her cousins forward with both hands, the three of them blow the candles on the massive cake.

The crowd cheers and claps, and Scott lifts the little girl into his arms. “What did you wish for?”

Poppy grins, pushing a strand of Scott’s hair to the side. She tilts her head to the side, and start ticking off her fingers. “I wished to see mommy and daddy in heaven. Then I wished for Disneyland. And then, I also wished to always have you and Aunt T, and for you to be happy and friends, together forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs References:   
> 1) Hypnotise - Notorious BIG   
> 2) Creep - Radiohead  
> 3) Desperately & Til I Get Over You - Michelle Branch - very pining, very sad. Give it a listen.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually I address comments in, well, comments section but we all know how I'm pretty much an epic fail when it comes to replying to comments in time. I feel honored/amused that the last chapter managed to gather a myriad of reactions from a lot of you. My aim for this story is to portray real emotions within real individuals, and with that comes certain aspects: nobody's perfect. Not Tessa, not Sam, not Scott (obviously). 
> 
> I'd like to remind you all that this is fiction, unfortunately based on real-life persons, but still a work of fiction. When you pick up a book at the store, the only clue that you get is the short blurbs on the back cover, without giving the whole storyline away. If the whole storyline is given out, what's the point in story telling then? 
> 
> And I think I gave ample warning regarding pairings; Tessa with an original male character was stated as a disclaimer. With whom would she end up? Since you guys insist, here's a spoiler; this is an HEA.
> 
> I didn't intend to take anybody on a ride. Honestly, I'm surprised anybody is reading this fic at all! All I wanted is to write, maybe vent a little, dream a bit, and if you feel it is good enough as a flight of fancy, I hope you'd be along for the ride. 
> 
> This Is Us is intended to create drama because not everything is rosy. I'm sorry it is not fuzzy and fluffy all the time. 
> 
> I think I have pretty much addressed all the pertaining concerns. Do drop a line in the comment section so that we could interact more. Thank you for reading!

He hears her sobbing in the kitchen.

He makes his presence known by shuffling his feet a little. Two decades together, she’s bound to know that it is him approaching. “Why are you crying, T?” he asks quietly, although he might have an idea as to why.

She turns to face him, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. He wants to be doing that, but he’s afraid of her pulling away. “She about killed me with her wishes,” she confesses, hiccupping a little.

He sighs. Poppy is really good at pulling at their heartstrings. “I know.”

“I’m sorry I was perpetually angry, Scott. I was not angry at you. Well, not only at you, but at myself too. And I was just angry at the situation. And apparently Poppy could see through it.” She rubs her tears. “Whatever happened, happened. And I should have been able to forget it and move on. I swear, Scott. I am. Forgetting. And moving on. But it’s hard.”

He cautiously takes her hand in his, and grateful when she doesn’t pull away. “What I did, it was difficult to forget, sweetie. The fact that we’re here, talking, crying together, just goes to show how bigger of a person you are. You don’t have to be too hard on yourself, T. I’m here. Take as much time as you need,” he says gently.

She sniffles, her face crumpling a little. “I’m not being really fair to you, am I?”

He chuckles. “You could have told Tom to withhold the letter summoning me, instead, you just kept mum about it, which I truly understand. You opened up your home to me. You allow me to share Poppy with you. You forgave me when I wouldn’t even forgive myself,” he says, looking at her adoringly. “You’ve been more than generous, kiddo. You don’t have it in your heart to be unfair. I would know, because I’ve known you for two decades, and there was never a day where you were selfish.”

Tessa sobs a little, her shoulders hunched as Scott folds her into his arms. Together they stand in front of the sink, him shushing her gently as she tries to quiet her tears. It is the first time they hug since last year. The last time was during the final day of the tour, for appearances’ sake.

“I’m going to make Disneyland happen,” she vows, pulling away a little, her teary face determined.

He nods, rubbing her shoulder reassuringly. “Yeah. Give me the details so I can work it out with my mother regarding skating schedule.”

“You don’t have to come along,” she mumbles, looking down at her feet.

His brows raised comically as he pulls her away at arms length. “Are you seriously uninviting me to the most magical place on earth, T?”

She rolls her eyes, chuckling. “I know you’re busy at the rink and with your home.”

His gaze softens. “Our home.”

She averts her gaze, looking at the surrounding kitchen. “You copied my kitchen design,” she accuses playfully.

Scott rests a hand on his chest, looking scandalized. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was there any copyright to that design?”

She pushed him once on the shoulder, and laughs. “Well, copying is the highest form of compliments. So I’d say, copy away.”

The day passes by without any more tears. Poppy is entertained by her family and friends, and is showered by so many gifts that the table designated for presents is not enough to hold the bulk.

Jim makes an appearance alone later during the day. Kevin and Jordan try their best to appear civil, but there is still a slight hostility from Kevin. Tessa seems resigned, and takes the responsibility to entertain their father.

“Do you want to put up a night here?” he asks once they have finished putting everything away. Charlie and the troops were the last to leave, and all the leftover food has been packed away into the fridge.

Tessa bites her lip. “I didn’t bring any clothes.”

“You’ve borrowed mine before,” he reminds her gently, almost scared to bring up the past.

Her lips lift up into a resigned smile. “Okay.”

Poppy is already asleep on the couch in the den, in front of the mountain of gifts. Feeling endeared, Tessa snaps a photo of the sleeping child, before Scott closes up on her.

“We luck out in the child department, eh? Gorgeous and smart, just like her aunt.”

She chuckles. “You don’t have to butter me up, Moir. I’m already in the clean-up team tomorrow, remember?”

He’s quiet for awhile. “Thank you for allowing the party to happen here. It means a lot to me.”

Her gaze softens. “We’re in this together, Scott. I’m sorry I was such a hardass about co-parenting Poppy before, but I’m fully aware that you are here to stay for Poppy now.”

_Not only for Poppy_ , he wants to say. _I’m here for you too._ He wonders when it is acceptable to confess his intentions to her without having her blanching and running away.

“Still, thank you,” he whispers again, squeezing her shoulder once. “Now, let’s tuck the birthday girl in, shall we?”

He lifts Poppy easily in his arms, and the girl doesn’t even budge a little. She must have been wiped out with the amount of playing and eating during the day. Tessa follows Scott to a room decorated in light purple, with a twin four-poster bed, on top of which rested a giant teddy. She gasps lightly. “This is incredible, Scott,” she gushes quietly, mindful of waking Poppy up.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” he asks, gently laying the little girl on the bed.

Tessa rolls her eyes, smiling gently. She proceeds to remove Poppy’s shoes while Scott takes out a pair of pyjamas from the wardrobe. “Duh, Scott. It makes me want a purple bedroom for myself. And that PJ?” she says, gesturing to the Frozen pyjamas in his hand. “That’s gonna be a hit. Trust.”

They work in tandem, putting on Poppy’s bedtime clothes on her. Eventually, Scott pulls up the comforter and tucks it around her small body. They both take turns to leave a kiss on her forehead.

Shutting the lights and pulling the door close, Scott looks at her, smiling. “Let me show you to your room. Unfortunately, it’s not purple.”

“Darn it,” she mutters, chuckling.

He shows her to the main guestroom, located next to his. “You did well with your dad today, kiddo,” he says, as they sit side by side on the bed.

Tessa shrugs. “You think?”

“Yeah. I know all about second chances, and I could see he’s very grateful for it.”

She smiles, then reaches over to engulf him in a hug. It reminisces of old times. “To second chances, eh?”

He nods, burying his face into his favorite place on earth. “To second chances.”

* * *

Her flight to Montreal leaves later that afternoon. So far, he’s worn the carpet in the hallway with the amount of pacing he’s done. What if she’s there to meet somebody else, but told him it’s for a meeting with Mathieu?

She breezes through the hallway with her carry-on and luggage in tow. “So, I’ve synced our phones with our weekly schedule today. I’ll be back in two days, as per discussed last night. You sure you’re up to this? I can call Kate to come,” she asks, her face concerned.

He tries a smile. It feels half-hearted. “Yeah. Easy peasy, Tess. Don’t worry.”

She gives him a small smile. “I don’t, honestly. You’re always so good with her.”

He follows her to the door, helping her with her luggage. “I can send you to the airport, you know,” he says quietly.

“I don’t want you to get out of your way, Scott.”

“You’re my wife. It’s my duty to get out of my way for you.”

She’s silent. She picks up her duffel and exhales, her smile wavering. “I’ll see you Friday.” She turns on her heels to leave.

He grabs her hand before she could step away any further, and engulfs her in a tight embrace. Her frozen body is a testament to her shock.

“Take care. And I’ll see you Friday.”

* * *

_You landed okay?_

He reminds himself that she might be busy looking for her luggage and hailing a taxi. It takes around an hour from her scheduled ETA for him to get a return text from her.

“So, I’m swinging your classes to Sheri and Carol for the time being. Are you guys sure you don’t need more time in Disneyland?” his mother speaks as she enters the office at the rink.

He looks up from his phone, plastering a smile on his face. “She’s starting Grade 1 soon, mom. We need some time home to acclimatise her to the new environment.”

Alma beams a proud smile. “I like how you talk about you and Tessa being a team. You haven’t used the word ‘we’ in reference to her in quite some time now.”

He lowers himself into the chair and leans back, contemplating. “From what you’ve seen during the weekend, do you think she still wants a ‘we’?”

Alma’s gaze softens, with a tinge of caution. “What I think, you can’t pressure her into something that _you_ want, because it might not be something that she might want now. But you guys can come together into an understanding, co-exist together as co-parents because that, I’m pretty sure is something she is open to.”

Scott’s face drops. He runs a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m not going to rush her. But do you think it might be something that she wants? In the future?”

“You have to face the possibility that it might not happen in the near future. It may take awhile. It may not happen at all, ever. I can’t really say, Scott. Last year was pretty bad, isn’t it? She had never thrown in the towel, but she did last year,” she reminds him gently.

He nods, looking away. His phone dings with a message in his inbox. His breath hitches slightly.

“You are in a good place, aren’t you? Going to Disneyland together won’t happen if you’re not in a good place,” his mothers says placatingly.

A smile graces his lips, remembering how he had to gently hustle to be in the trip. “I believe we are.” He grabs his phone from the table, and his grin grows upon seeing her name.

“She’s arrived?”

He nods again. “Yep.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

Two days drag by, especially with Poppy moaning and whining about her aunt’s absence.

“When is she coming back, Uncle Scott?” she asks.

Scott pouts. “I’m not feeling the love, Pops.”

Guilt all over her face, Poppy ambushes him and wraps her arms around his legs. “I do I do I do love you!” she cries out, smashing her face in between his legs.

Scott laughs, his heart light. He bends down to kiss the little girl on the head.

“I know, sweetie. I miss her too. So much.”

Friday can’t come too soon. He dashes back from the rink, after getting a text message from Tessa that she has gone to pick up Poppy on the way back from the airport.

“So, then I said to Mathieu, you gotta see this little girl that inspires my collection. She has the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Scott chuckles from his place against the wall. “Only second to yours, of course.”

“Uncle Scott!” Poppy exclaims, running to greet him. How a few months of winning her affections has changed her attitude towards him.

Scott stoops low to gather Poppy into his arms. “Hey, Pops. Miss you today. Did you miss me?”

Poppy shakes her head, grinning. “Nope. Cause Aunt T came back!”

Scott mimics a frown and touches his chest. “Ouch. Way to break my heart, kiddo. But I’m happy she’s back too.” He walks closer to where Tessa is standing by the sink and leans down to lay a kiss on her hair. He ignores the sudden hitch in her breath. Two days is too long to be without her scent. “Hey, Tess. How was Montreal?” he asks, pretending the whiff of her strawberry shampoo is not doing things to his nether region.

Tessa blushes slightly, flashing him a small smile. “It was good.”

“What’s for dinner?” he asks, looking over her shoulder at the chopping board.

She shrugs. “Stir fry and maybe some rice. Okay with you?”

He gives her a gentle smile. “You know I’m okay with anything.” He pecks loudly on Poppy’s cheek, making the little girl squeal. “And I think it’s bath time for this smelly squirrel. What do you think, Aunt T? Does this squirrel need a bath?”

Tessa laughs, and sends them both off with fond looks.

And with that, all is well in the Virtue-Moir household once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bandmates are back, y'all!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love is an open doooooooooooorrrrrr.

Disneyland brings out the inner child in them.

“Where’s my Mickey ears?” Scott calls from the bedroom, ransacking their shopping bags from yesterday.

“Bathroom. You were wearing it when you were on the can yesterday,” Tessa replies patiently from the living room. She is pulling Poppy’s waterproof sneakers on as the little girl pours over the Park Map.

“We are going to the Critter Country today, okay, Aunt T?” Poppy decides, looking up to her aunt for approval.

Tessa gives her a little salute. “Aye, aye, captain.” She pulls the little girl onto her lap. “Now, let me see you pull the bunny ear shoelace trick.”

Poppy bites her lip, her face determined. At the same time, Scott emerges from the room, Mickey earhat on, looking utterly ridiculous, and admittedly, absolutely adorable. Tessa lets out a laugh.

“I’m not gonna miss this shoelace tying event. Come on, Pops! Don’t let Uncle Scott down! Woo!” Scott cheers, pumping his fist and he hurls himself on the couch to settle next to Tessa.

“Way to put pressure on me, Uncle Scott,” Poppy deadpans, crossing her arms to her chest.

Tessa chuckles. “He has faith in you, baby. Now, let us see how you do it.”

Poppy puts her game face on and tackles the obstacle in front of her. She mumbles the nursery rhyme under her breath, and her finger tentatively puts the strings into loops and on top of each other.

“Bunny ears, bunny ears, jumped into the hole,   
Popped out the other side…”

“Beautiful and bold!” Both Tessa and Scott jump in, clapping their hands excitedly as she manages a perfect bow. Poppy grins and throws her arms each around her aunt and uncle. “Yay, I did it!”

Scott lays a big smooch on Poppy’s cheek. “You did it, kiddo!”

“I thought you only call Aunt T kiddo,” Poppy remarks, righting the Mickey earhat which is slipping off Scott’s head.

Tessa smiles at his laughter. He looks at her adoringly, and admittedly, it’s a lot, but she thinks she's okay. They are back to being friends.

“I’m gonna retire that for your aunt and shift the honor to you. What do you think?” he asks, pulling Poppy off Tessa’s lap and onto his own.

Poppy frowns. “Then, what are you calling aunt T?”

“Hmm,” he rubs his chin. “I don’t know, maybe something along the line of ‘honey’? Or what do you think about ‘sweetheart’?”

* * *

It is a lot to take in, but she’s used to him making a big scene out of nothing.

_Missed you. Hope you had a grand time in my homeland._

She smiles at the message.

_I was in California. Not New York. And I will see you tomorrow._

_Still across the border. Can’t wait for tomorrow._

“Aunt T?”

She looks down to the little girl standing by her side. “Hey, shrimp. How was your sleep on the last day of summer?” she asks, bending down for Poppy to kiss her cheek good morning.

She shrugs, pouting a little. Tomorrow is the first day of Grade 1. Although she has attended the orientation day with her aunt the week before, it hasn’t sparked any joy within her. Yes, she’s excited to meet new friends (aunt T said new people means new experience, whatever that means) and new teachers, but she has gotten used to waking up and spending the day with her aunt and uncle during summer. Adjusting to fall will definitely take some effort.

Suddenly her eyes sparkle remembering the date.

“Is it September second already?” she asks excitedly.

Tessa nods, smirking. “It definitely is, baby.”

Poppy shrieks and dashes to the front guest room. Without knocking on the door, she pushes the half-opened door and jumps onto the lump on the bed. “Wake up wake up wake up, uncle Scott! It’s your birthday!”

There’s an ‘oof’ coming from under the blanket and Scott surfaces with a bed head of epic proportion. Poppy laughs. “Your hair looks like a bird’s nest, Uncle Scott!”

Scott groans, pushing his hair to the back. “Not the first thing I want to hear on my birthday, kiddo,” he says, his eyes still sleep addled.

“Sorry! But you’re still handsome, no matter how bad your hair looks,” Poppy adds on helpfully, bouncing slightly on his tummy.

“Well, gee, thanks, Poppy,” Scott snarks. He looks up to see Tessa giggling at his doorway. “Hey, sweetheart,” he calls out, lifting his left arm not occupied by Poppy out. “What do you have there?”

Tessa walks into the room, smiling, a hand holding up a cupcake. A single candle is lighted. “Happy birthday, kiddo. I still got to call you kiddo no matter how old you’re getting,” she says, holding the cupcake up to him. “Make a wish!”

Scott looks at the two of them, his eyes soft. After one good inhale, he blows the candle to the excited claps from Poppy.

“Thank you, ladies,” he says shyly, taking the cupcake from Tessa and setting it on the bedside table. He pats the area next to him on the bed, insisting for her to sit down. She sits by the edge, crossing her legs, still smiling.

“What do you want for your birthday, Uncle Scott?” Poppy asks, both hands on his cheeks, trying to get his attention.

He grins, those hazel eyes beaming. “I can ask for anything?”

“Within reasons, of course,” Tessa adds, patting him gently on the shoulder.

That is enough to motivate him. He exchanges looks with Poppy before shrugging. “Well, I want to have a movie night, because I want to watch The Princess Bride,” he says nonchalantly.

Poppy cheers, remembering the request she made a few weeks before. Tessa raises an eyebrow. Scott winks at Poppy, who giggles.

“You want to watch The Princess Bride?” Tessa asks skeptically.

“Hey, it’s a fun movie!” he replies, defensive. He and Poppy lean their heads close to each other and frown at Tessa.

The twin frown coming from the male adult and the little girl are enough to throw Tessa off. She chuckles. “Fine. We’ll watch it tonight,” she replies, rolling her eyes, knowing full well it was Poppy who wanted to watch The Princess Bride.

“And I want to go skating. Together. As a family.”

* * *

It is a tall order, but she plays along. It is his birthday after all.

She thinks about his birthday last year, he was in Florida, getting his jiggy on with his original skating partner, while she was somewhere in Mexico, nursing her heartbreak. Was it only a year ago?

The rink is empty, given that it’s a Monday which coincides with Labor Day. “What are we skating to, uncle Scott?”

He scrunches up his face. “I really want to skate to ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’,” he reveals, pouting slightly.

“Why don’t you skate with Poppy? Teach her our old moves?” she suggests, leaning against the plexiglass. She pulls out her phone and open the Spotify app. “I can put the music on.”

He looks at her, his eyes soft, slightly pleading. She smiles, pretends to look at her phone. The pain still smarts, she thinks. She’s swears she's beyond holding grudges, its' just that she just doesn’t want to relive certain things. Because God knows holding his hands on the ice is definitely going to rake up a lot of old memories.

Somehow the little girl knows not to push, and Tessa is grateful for that.

She records the two of them skating around the rink, once, then twice, before Scott executes a simple lift, much to Poppy’s delight. Tessa manages to get every squeal and laughter in video, making a mental note to forward the footage to Scott.

Once the song is over, Poppy dashes to her, holding on to her sweater. “Aunt T, put on Love Is An Open Door!”

“Ooh, good choice, shrimp! I’m sure uncle Scott would love to dance to that!” Tessa says, looking up the Frozen soundtrack on Spotify. They had a Frozen rerun last Christmas and Poppy had made her listen to all the songs in the movie. The first thousand times listening to Frozen had made her ear bled a bit, but once she heard the second most popular song in that Disney movie, and she was hooked (secretly).

“Actually, I think it’s best if the two of you dance together to that song,” Poppy says, blinking her big green eyes innocently.

Shit, she backpedals. “I don’t know the lyrics very well,” she bluffs. That fucking Disney song was played 758-th time in her house back in December, she damn well knows the lyrics.

“Aunt T, how could you forget? The whole song is like a long conversation between two people! You got this, aunt T!” Poppy argues, almost stomping her feet.

“Why don’t we all skate together and you can teach us the words?” Scott suggests, looking between the two. He flashes an apologetic look to Tessa, as some sort of a white flag. He knows when not to push.

Tessa refrains from sighing. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. How about that, shrimp?”

Poppy lets out a harrumph before pulling the two adults in each hand.

_Okay, can I just say something crazy?_

_I love crazy!_

They listen and laugh to Poppy imitating Anna and Kristoff singing to each other. They skate lazily around the rink, with Scott catching up to the lyrics and hollering “Love is an open dooorrrr” to the amusement of Poppy and Tessa.

“The last part is the best part. Listen!” Poppy says, hushing them from laughing.

Tessa is fully aware of the last part. Her eyes drift away, before settling on Scott’s when the last line fills the rink. He smiles with his eyes, looking directly into hers.

_Can I say something crazy? Will you marry me?_

_Can I say something crazier? Yes!_

* * *

She wakes up early the next day. Nervous about Poppy going off to school. 5 am, she notes, when she looks at her phone. Missives of notification from Instagram. Must be due to the fact that she had updated last night before going to bed. She had posted a photo of Poppy and her in Mickey hats, shot from the back by Scott, overlooking the iconic Disney castles. There was no need to create chaos and tag Scott. She is not ready for the drama to ensue.

However, her aversion for drama is not shared by Scott, as the man had tagged a photo of her and Poppy, rolling on the ice, laughing, after their skating session yesterday with the caption reading _‘best birthday present ever’_.

Going through her phone, she realises the number of notifications and alerts is alarming high. Heart thudding fast, she opens her Insta, and notes hundreds of notification on a photo tagging Scott. She clicks over, and her heart stops beating.

A photo of Scott and Jackie French kissing, with the sunset as their backdrop.

_Happy birthday to my boo! Love you forever!_

Tessa purses her lips. She stares and stares. There’s a lot of tongue action going on in the picture; Scott was probably halfway drunk from the look of it. Looks like from their Dominican Republic getaway. Her hand in his hair, tugging.

Tessa shrugs. Then switches off Insta before firing a text. She crosses her fingers, looking at the clock. _Get breakfast ready at 630. Plenty of time_ , she thinks.

A reply comes into her inbox. Her lips curve into a shy smile, before blooming into a full excited grin. She gets ready in her joggers, layered up with a hoodie because it is getting chilly, and grabs her keys.

She’s ready for a brand new day.


	27. Chapter 27

Not exactly the stellar day that he had dreamed of.

_Wake up, doofus. Your old news is trying to make front page._ Followed by a link to an instagram post.

Scott frowns at the encrypted message. “What the fuck are you talking about, Charlie?” he mumbles drowsily, and clicks on the link attached.

“Fuck. Shit.”

He jumps off his bed and dashes to Tessa’s bedroom.

Empty.

He panics. The bed is made, very typical of her. He looks at the retro clock resting on the mantel. 623 am.

He checks the toilet. The kitchen. The basement.

_Shit, shit, shit._

He grabs his phone, hitting the call button, before hearing the front door opening.

He rushes to the door, and exhales a huge sigh of relief upon seeing Tessa toeing off her runners. She looks glowing, slightly rumpled, but absolutely amazing.

And the smile on her face. His heart drops anticipating the moment the smile may fall off.

“Hey, Scott,” she greets, patting him on the shoulder as she passes him in the hall.

“Did you go jogging?” He swears he gets a whiff of her perfume. And something else.

“Yeah,” she replies, dropping her keys into the porcelain bowl on the hallway table. She moves to the kitchen, almost skipping on her toes.

He figures he should just put it out there. “I’m sorry about Jackie’s Insta post,” he blurts from the middle of the hallway.

She turns on her heels, tilting her head to the side. “Why are you apologising?” she asks, frowning.

He’s silent. He watches as she pulls the fridge door and takes out a water bottle. She raises the bottle to drink from it, raising the hem of her t-shirt a little. A small bluish mark mars the perfect skin of her hip and he frowns.

“Where did you get that bruise?”

He swears her cheeks redden as she glances down nonchalantly at her waist. “Oh, I ran into a bench while trying to adjust my iPod band.”

His first instinct is to chuckle, but he doesn’t seem it’s appropriate. She’s so graceful on ice but so clumsy off it, which used to annoy him when he was younger. He approaches her slowly. He wants so much to lift the hem of the shirt to scrutinise the bruise, but he’s slowly realising he doesn’t have the right, especially not today.

“I don’t like it when you run alone, T,” he murmurs, thinking of the possibility of her running into danger. Or someone?

He’s watched too damn many crime series to know that shit could happen to runners, and too damn many rom-com to know some could meet the loves of their lives on their run.

_Please please please be careful. And please please please don’t meet someone._

She bites her bottom lip, seems contemplative, before offering him a small smile. “I’m always careful, Scott. I brought my pepper spray with me.”

“Still,” he says petulantly. He wants to crash her jogging sessions sometimes, just for the heck of it, but he knows he should give her space. He owes her at least that.

And a lot more. “And again, I’m sorry for the picture,” he mumbles, looking down at his feet. He doesn’t know which is more embarrassing, the picture itself, or the fact that he chose such a vengeful woman over someone who has always been there for him, through thick and thin.

He doesn’t know if this feeling of penitence is ever going to leave him.

“You’re not responsible for her action, Scott,” she says gently, resting a hand on his arm in comfort. “If I were her, I’d be _that_ too,” she continues, gesturing her hand in the air, trying to come up with a suitable word.

“But we broke up, she has no right to put our old private photo up as if we are still together,” he protests, leaning against the kitchen counter, exasperated. Really not the morning he’s hoped for.

“She does have a right to act out. I did threaten her. And I don’t know what happened between you guys, but the way it sounded to me the last time she was here, it wasn’t pretty,” she rationalises.

“I went off on her after our conversation on the porch,” he confesses. “I dumped her on the spot.”

She’s quiet as she goes over the words in her head. “You were always so impulsive,” she murmurs, looking down at her feet.

When she is honest, which is almost all the time now, it hurts.

“Is it really what you want? Now that you had more time to think about it? Do you still want the breakup?” she asks tentatively.

He frowns. Not understanding. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. You could have missed being with her. Maybe you regret breaking up with her? I appreciate everything that you have done for me and Poppy, Scott, but you shouldn’t have to put us as priorities in your life over your own happiness.”

As usual, her honestly always kills him.

How could she not know that they are the ones keeping him happy?

He grabs hold of both her arms, looking directly into his eyes. He doesn’t know how he could fail articulating himself, again and again, to the only person that matters?

“I don’t regret breaking up with her. I don’t regret marrying you. You and Poppy are my priorities, nobody else.” _And I love you. So damn much. But I don’t think you’re ready to hear it. Not without you looking at me skeptically because that’s pretty much what I deserve._

She looks away, her face falls slightly. He has no words.

“I don’t ever want you to do anything you don’t want to. Especially when it involves me. I don’t want you to look back and regret,” she mumbles quietly.

“I don’t. Nothing with you will make me regret.”

She exhales, and takes a small step backward. He feels the loss of her warmth instantly.

“What do you think Jackie is up to?” she asks, changing the subject.

He exhales, running a hand through his messy hair. “All this while when I asked her to keep things on the down low, why now?”

She looks at him. “You did trigger her by posting my photo with Poppy yesterday. You shouldn’t have done that.”

He looks at her defensively. “You’re my family. I post what I want.”

“You used to log in to your Insta like twice a year before, and now you’re updating every other day. About me and Poppy, of all things. That woman is bound to be pissed off. You didn’t even acknowledge her existence to your fans while you were dating. She’s bound to feeling vengeful,” she explains.

“Look, what I’m telling you might not be want you want to hear. I’m the least of your worry. She’s the main concern now. You have to sit down and think of how you’re going to tackle this.”

Not really a conversation he’s looking forward to. He’s not even sure if he still has Jackie’s number. And by calling her, it feels like he’s acknowledging it.

“Talk to her. Don’t leave things hanging. Don’t give empty promises. Be clear. Be there for her.”

He looks up, her face earnest. “I have no idea what you mean by being there for her,” he deadpans. “The last thing I want is to be in the same room with that woman.”

“You dated and played house for months, Scott. You must have cared about her at some point. She’s hurting and projecting. It’s the least you could do.”

It feels like pulling teeth. He shouldn’t be so surprised. Classic Tessa, always putting others’ feelings before hers.

“And, we still have Poppy’s custody trial to think about,” she adds hesitantly, as an afterthought. “I know this is the longest you’ve ever been single. So if you, you know, want to get back together with her, maybe you could keep it on the down low, for now?”

* * *

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me here,” Scott starts stiffly. The two of them are sitting in Ronalee’s living room, as he doesn’t want to stir the pot by having a conversation in public. Even worse, in private.

Jackie shrugs, looking away. “Yeah. I’m around. So.”

“Why aren’t you back in Clearwater?” he asks, not really caring, maybe a little curious. It has been a few months ago since that screaming tirade in front of Tessa’s porch. Since then, he had blocked her number.

After the lecture from Tessa, he realises the cascades of mistakes he has made.

“Why do you care?” Jackie snaps.

Scott exhales. “Honestly, I don’t. I’m just curious. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Jackie looks down at her feet, her cheeks reddening slightly. “I quit my job.”

Scott’s eyes widen. “Why?”

The woman looks up, her eyes flashing, tears pooling. “Because I thought you were in love with me! I wanted to follow you back home!”

His heart stops.

“You played me dirty, Moir. You gave me hope and then you dropped me like I don’t even matter!”

Tessa’s words keep ringing in his ears. Isn’t it fucked up that when he’s sitting face to face with one woman, he could only think about another?

His face falls. Shit.

“I’m sorry, Jackie,” he exhales. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you don’t matter.”

The woman snorts, rubbing her tears away. “One moment we’re fucking and the next you’re married to her!”

He cringes at her crass word, but looking back, it did look that way, didn’t it?

“Why the fuck do you want to meet? Is it to tell me to take down the photo? Because I did. Your fans are fucking vultures. I had to take down my account. Happy?” she says sarcastically.

He sighs, rubbing his face. Ten minutes in and he’s so fucking tired. _By your own doing, you douche._ “That was one of the reasons. Yes. And I’m not happy that our fans attacked you. But admit it, you were asking for it.”

“There’s nothing wrong wishing my boyfriend on his birthday,” she shrugs, looking away.

“I’m not your boyfriend anymore,” he snaps, before relaxing his posture at the shocked expression on Jackie’s face. “Look, we broke up. I’m sorry if you think that I led you on. We were just having fun, weren’t we? You were just out of your divorce. We were not serious.”

“ _Fuck you!_ You invaded me for MONTHS and I had to cater to your moody ass when you kept on saying ‘Back in Ilderton’ in every fifth sentence. We went places, Scott. I fucked you in Milford Sound, and it felt very fucking serious. I put up with your friends, who asked about fucking Princess Tessa every twenty minutes. Tell me how we were not serious? Because we haven’t tried anal??”

He can feel the fire creeping on his cheeks. God. He can’t even blame her for being vulgar. So fucking vulgar.

He looks down on his feet. He has a lot to apologise for.

“Jackie, I’m going to be honest with you,” he starts. He has never tried to explain a breakup to an ex before. This year is about breaking all the records. “I realised that I have always been this way. I jumped into new relationships so quickly once the previous one was over. I’ve been a total dick to my exes. You know the whole Sochi gossip. I brought Cassie, and came back with Kait. I was a fucking douche.”

He was. He really was. He’s happy Cassandra has found a good man who appreciates her. He was such an asshole in Sochi. It was barely two days after their breakup before he was sleeping with Kaitlyn. And at the time, Kaitlyn was also dating another man.

“Tessa took me in for two years. She put me back to life. I’m not exaggerating. I was down a very destructive road with drinking and she pulled me back. After Pyeongchang, I wanted to seal the deal. Because she was everything. Is everything. But she wanted time. She didn’t say no. She just said she wanted time. And like an asshole, I bailed and to rub it in her face, I dated you.”

“I didn’t mean to make you sound like revenge. You were fun. I was attracted to fun. You made me forget my heartbreak for awhile. We had fun together, didn’t we. But I shouldn’t have started anything with you, because T and I, we were never finished. I could never be done with T. She’s in my blood. But I guess I pushed her too far. She’s kinda done with me. So you can rest easy; karma is kicking me in the face.”

“But I can’t give her up, Jackie. She’s the love of my life. With Poppy now, they are my family. I’m taking advantage of the situation to put myself in her good graces again. I’m putting myself in a vulnerable position by telling you that we are fighting for custody for Poppy. And we can’t afford any hiccups.”

“I know you’re not vengeful by nature. I was the one who pushed you to be. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry for everything that I have done to hurt you. I can’t push you to forgive me, but know this, I regret breaking your heart. It wasn’t my intention.”

“I hope we can go on with our lives, outgrow this and be better people. I hope you’ll meet a man worthy of your affections. And I wish you success in your life. I’m honored to have had a taste of your affections, and I wish you the best. Again, I am sorry, Jackie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was that.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo lovers! Call me sadistic but I'm ECSTATIC with the emotions shown by you guys. Don't worry, no opinion is a bad opinion, but take it this way, not everything as it seems. For example; you may think a marriage is perfect but you have no idea the behind-the-door scenario. I'm encouraging you all to look at the problem and to brainstorm why one made the decision instead of the other, and what are the possible outcome. What may lead to a person to choose a certain way. To fully understand why somebody turns out the way he/she is. Because sometimes we look at people too objectively, we fail to ascertain that he/she may fail, may make wrong decisions, and why he/she put herself in the situation. 
> 
> Life is a learning process. We stumble and make mistakes. That's what makes us human. With that said, I hope this chapter elicits the same response from you guys. :)

After the talk, Scott came back home looking subdued.

She doesn’t want to pressure him more, therefore she decides to let him come to her whenever he feels comfortable. After all, they are still friends, and she loathes to see their friendship dwindling.

Someday in October, she receives a call from Midori. She’s about to fly to Montreal for another meeting with Mathieu the next day.

Midori’s face when they meet up at her house is one of wariness.

“What’s with the face?” Tessa asks, gesturing to Midori’s beautiful exotic face.

Midori purses her lips. She gestures for her friend to sit down behind the kitchen counter. “What’s your poison?”

Tessa laughs. “Are we drinking at 2 in the afternoon? I need to pick Poppy up in an hour.” Her laughter subsides at the seriousness of Midori’s expression. “Okayyy,” she drags the Y. “You’re scaring me.”

Midori places a glass of wine in front of Tessa.

She looks up at her long-time friend, concerned. “What’s up, Dori? You know you can tell me anything.”

“Pauly had an all bros night the other day,” she starts.

Tessa nods cautiously. All bros nights don’t always end well in movies. Prime example: The Hangover.

“He got wasted so he left his car in front of Sam’s and came back in an Uber.”

_Shit_.

She feels her face heating up.

“He went back the next morning to pick up his car for work, and he saw a freakishly familiar car parked right by the curb. At 6 in the morning.” Midori continues.

Tessa gulps, feeling like a golfball in her throat.

“Where were you at 6 yesterday, T?”

The two women stare at each other, Tessa defiantly, Midori, more resigned. Silence passes between them, before Midori sighs and looks away. “I tried to come up with explanations, maybe your car was stolen, or maybe you sold it and it was repurchased by somebody else. Anything other than the crazy notion that my mostly-rational married best friend might be having a sleepover with my husband’s single friend.”

She keeps mum. She learns that in crime series it’s better to plead the fifth, despite being in Canadian soil.

“Does Scott know?”

Again, she refuses to answer. Not acknowledging it sounds much better in her head.

“Are you ever going to deign me with a response some time in this century? Cat got your tongue?”

Midori sighs, plopping on the seat in front of Tessa. “Is this some sort of lashing out or retaliation?”

Her head whips up so fast she almost gets a whiplash.

“Revenge? Against Scott? Because I can tell you, baby girl, it’s only going to backfire against you.”

“How fucking petty do you think I am?” Tessa snaps.

Midori’s eyes widen. “Very. If I know you well, because I _do_ know you well, Virtue.”

“Maybe I like him, Dori. Maybe I’m tired of being a certain ice dancer’s bitch. I’ve been panting after him for the past two decades. Let a woman move on, goddammit.”

Midori looks at her in disbelief. “You’re nobody’s bitch. You’re Tessa fucking Virtue. Who happens to be married. And in a middle of a custody battle! Your moving on timing fucking sucks, Virtue.”

Her face crumples. “Then when do you propose I do, Rutledge? I devoted two decades of my life to a profession which had been unkind to me on most days. I worshipped a guy who couldn’t even wait two fucking minutes for me to make up my mind before fucking the next girl, who happened to be his original skating partner. I’m sorry if I acted impulsively and snag up the next guy who’s actually genuine with me and care enough about me, not because I’m a three-time Olympian, not because I have a plaque with my name on it on Simcoe Street. He likes me for me. So I’m sorry if my moving on timing doesn’t align with everybody else’s!”

Midori’s face softens. “T…”

Tessa stands up, clearly done with the so-called intervention, wine untouched. “I’m not that much of an imbecile, Dori. Nobody knows, because it’s nobody’s business. We don’t have sleepovers. I know I have Poppy and Scott to think about. Just let me have him. Let me have _this_ ,” she pleads.

“There’s a lot at stake, baby girl,” Midori reminds her gently. “Your relationship with Scott. With his family. With your family. The risk of losing Poppy.”

“I don’t have a relationship with Scott,” Tessa says petulantly. “You were there when we signed the contract. Sam is fair game,” she insists.

“There’s no talking to you, is it?”

Tessa starts to walk away to the front door. “From this now on, no. I’m done being a pushover.”

* * *

She’s about to order an Uber when a bouquet of ranunculus greets her sight.

She looks up to see Scott standing in front of her, smiling. He looks handsome in a button down and a bomber jacket, hair slicked back. “Hey. What are you doing here?” she asks, surprise filling her as the flowers changes hands.

He leans down to peck on her forehead. “I’m kidnapping you,” he announces, grabbing her duffel from her hand.

She frowns, letting him wrap his arm around her waist. “Uh, what did I do now?”

He shrugs, tightening his arm around her. “Nothing. I just thought it’d be nice to do some grown up stuff together.”

She blanks. The flowers is a nice surprise, she has to admit. Getting ranunculus in November must take some sort of an effort. She had never gotten any flowers from him before. They were too busy keeping things on the down low, or too focused on Pyeongchang. Romance was practically nonexistent. “Where’s Poppy?”

“She’s with Kate.” The car isn’t too far away, and she notices it’s the Audi. _Huh_.

She steps in when the door is opened for her. Another thing which is new. “Where are we going?”

He slips on his sunglasses, effectively skyrocketing the degree of his attractiveness. “Toronto.”

Her eyes widen. She was just in Montreal for 3 days, and now they are going to Toronto? “Did I forget something? How long are we gonna be there? What about Poppy?”

Scott chuckles, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “No. No, you didn’t forget anything. Poppy is spending time with both grandmas for the weekend.”

“Oh.” She frowns a bit, before looking at the road. “What are we doing in Toronto?”

He drums on the steering wheel, not letting go of her hand. “We’re gonna watch Apollo & Night the Sea Above tomorrow. And the Leafs game after.”

“We’re watching ballet? And hockey? On the same day?” she asks disbelievingly.

He nods, glancing over at her with a grin on his face. “Yep.”

She shakes her head in wonder. Nobody has taken her to the ballet before. Not Ryan. Not pre-Pyeongchang Scott. Current Scott is all sorts of weird and overwhelming. “Oh, wow,” she mumbles. “I’m not too sure what to say. Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, Tess.”

She surreptitiously texts Sam to cancel their Friday ‘jog’. No reply since he may still be in the hospital. She is slightly disappointed, but seeing the carefree smile on Scott’s face, she’s appeased a little.

She will always want him happy.

They arrive almost to dinnertime. He navigates them to a familiar neighborhood downtown. “Before checking in, let’s have dinner,” he says, pulling over in front of an upscale French restaurant. She’s been once, with sponsors, and to come here again, with Scott, feels like being in The Twilight Zone.

They’ve done fancy dinners before, but everything halted back in July 2018. She wonders if she had missed an anniversary of their skate, or if he has some news to tell her, therefore buttering her up before breaking it to her.

Is it about the Skate Shop? She smiles remembering the long nights he had spent looking over the spreadsheets. Business is really taking off for him and she’s proud. So so proud.

They step into Alo, where he helps her with her jacket before being shown to their table.

“Wow. Are you trying to get out of dinner duty for the next foreseeable future, kiddo, cause I swear it’s working,” she marvels at the menu being placed in front of them before grinning at him.

He chuckles. “I’ll cook dinner all you want but tonight is for us. It’s been a long time since we’ve been to a nice restaurant together without any of our sponsors, isn’t it?”

She smiles. Indeed it has been quite some time. “What do you plan on having?”

He shrugs. “Why don’t you choose for us? I heard the portion is huge, so we can order two different dishes and share.”

Dinner goes by superbly. She can’t recall the last time they had such an easy time conversing. Things were strained for the past year, and it feels great to finally reconnect with her best friend. Putting everything back in perspective, she realises she has missed him, missed the connection they had, and missed the solid foundation of their partnership.

No matter how much they have drifted apart, she is convinced that they will forever be in each other’s lives.

They arrive at the Four Seasons and Scott checks them in as she hangs out in the lobby. She’s slightly nervous about the sleeping arrangement; but they are at a good place and she’s convinced Scott won’t be forcing her hand and make everything awkward.

The concierge follows them to their room, which turns out to be a one-bedroom Yorkville Suite on the fifteenth floor.

Once the door closes, he turns to face her, his face apologetic. “I wanted to book a two-bedroom but I don’t want anybody who’s curious to be suspicious, since we’re married. So next best thing? You take the bed, I’ll take the sofa bed.”

Her face softens. She’s hit with nostalgia. And something else. Probably guilt. Something she’s not ready to explore. “Thank you, Scott.”

He smiles, his eyes soft. “Anything for you, T.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing my babies dancing in South Korea made me happy :)


	29. Chapter 29

“I don’t know how to tell her that I don’t want any other woman.”

Charlie purses his lips. He’s listening to his brother telling him the conversation he had with Tessa the morning Jackie had posted the photo. “I hate to tell you this, bro. But it sounds like Big Hands kinda doesn’t give a shit anymore.”

Scott looks up at his brother, his face a little scared. He may have an idea what his brother meant, but maybe he’s wrong? “What do you mean?”

“It feels like she doesn’t see you that way anymore? I mean, yes, you are married, but given the way you kind of got her thinking that you’re doing charity by marrying her, maybe she doesn’t feel like you’re in for the long run. You did sign the contract to annul the marriage next year, didn’t you?”

“It was what she wanted! And honestly, at the time, it was the only way I could convince her to marry me!”

Charlie sigh. “Why are you 32 and still so much of a dumbass?”

“You’re not fucking helping, Charlie,” Scott grouses, kicking the paint can to the side.

“Telling her that she has no other other prospect is not the way to get a woman to love you, Scotty. Not when the woman has put up with your moody, cheating ass for the past 22 years,” Charlie adds, adding fuel to fire.

“I’m not a cheater.”

Charlie shrugs. “My bad. You’re just a kangaroo. A very expert jumper from one relationship to another, without thinking of the consequences or sitting back for evaluation. You’re so predictable. Remember when you jumped from Cassie to Kaitlyn in matter of days? You’re lucky both women traded up well above you, and the fact that they were both saints or they’d be talking about you to the tabloids right after the Olympics.”

“And how much in her face you were with T, she was scared at how quick you wanted to lock her down and the moment she said to give her time, you jumped to Jackie. Not your brightest decision, Scott.”

“Fuck you, Charlie.”

“Nope, only Nicole is allowed to do that,” he says nonchalantly. “At least my wife wants to fuck me. Sucks being you, bro,” he adds, cackling, turning his body away to avoid the woodblock thrown by his brother.

“Unfuck you then, Charlie,” Scott mumbles.

Charlie laughs, sitting down on the dirty basement floor, where they are trying to convert the space into a recreation room. A foosball table for him and the boys (and let’s face it, Tessa loves foosball too), a rec centre for the 90 inch Ultra HD TV he’s purchasing and a wall fitted with book racks for Tessa.

“Do you think she’s getting it on the side?” Charlie wonders aloud.

He could feel blood draining from his face. He has thought about it.

“She’s a fucking gorgeous woman, it won’t be hard for her to get a little sumthin’ sumthin’ going on,” Charlie goes on, purposefully turning a blind eye at the brewing rage behind his little brother’s eyes.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Scott mutters.

He thinks about her speech as he goes to bed that night. Does she really not care if he ventures outside of their marriage and sleeps with another woman?

The thought hurts his brain. It’s been almost four months and still he is getting nowhere in getting back into her good side. If she is so open to him being with other women, does that mean she holds the idea that it’d be okay for her to sleep with other men too?

* * *

The surprised look on her face upon seeing him at the airport makes him slightly nervous. What if she had plans? Girls night out with Midori? Or sisters coffee date with Jordan? He braces himself and shoves the ranunculus under her nose, her confused face endearing. He is right, her first worry is Poppy and he’s glad he’s gotten it handled. He owes Poppy another doll house if the weekend goes smoothly.

Dinner goes on superbly and he’s relieved she isn’t opposed to sharing a room. He doesn’t want to force her hand but at the same time he feels it’s about time they let out small nuggets of information for the world to conclude on their own.

“Hey, shrimp!”

“Aunt T! Are you enjoying your surprise?”

“I am! We just came back from dinner and we had a blast.”

“That’s good. I did make Uncle Scott promise to make it good.”

“Ooh, you don’t have to worry about that. We’re going to watch ballet and the Leafs tomorrow. Isn’t it exciting!”

Poppy claps excitedly. “Good job, Uncle Scott! I’m proud of you!”

Scott chuckles, the tips of his ears turning red. Tessa looks at him with pride and gratefulness, which hasn’t been directed to him for the past year or so. And it ate him from the inside that she had been so indifferent to him after the glorious year they had in 2018. The fact that she is looking at him like he’s back to being her best friend is relieving, but he craves more.

He wants her to look at him like when she was still in love with him.

Does she still love him? Does he even have the right to ask her to love him?

* * *

He flicks through the channel as he sees her thumbing her phone. She’s standing by the floor-to-ceiling glass window, the night lights of Toronto serves as a backdrop to her silhouette.

She smiles once, biting her lip as she looks at the phone, before typing away. Her phone chirps seconds later, signalling an incoming message. She gingerly reads the text, her grin wider before replying again promptly.

A flare of jealousy flickers in his chest. Who is she texting? Dare he asks?

“Hey, you wanna watch something?” he blurts.

She looks up from her phone, her face flushed. She gives him a small smiles. “Well, I don’t want to invade your sleeping area.”

“There’s plenty of room for the two of us, T,” he replies gently. He flips the blanket and pats the area next to him on the made sofa bed. “Come on, Civil War is on.”

She wrinkles her nose. “It’d better be nobody dies in this one. I’m still not over one of the twins dying in the other one.”

Scott laughs. Leave it to Tessa to cry to one of the Marvel Comic’s movies. “Then it’s a good thing we’re watching End Game at home because I think you’d be bawling, Tess.”

Her face changes. “Shit. No, we’re not watching it.”

His face softens. He tilts his head, gesturing for her to get under the blanket. “Come on, let’s get our movie marathon started.”

They are halfway through Civil War when Hawkeye comes face to face with Black Widow.

“We’re still friends, right?” Black Widow asks Hawkeye while pinned to the ground.

Hawkeyes shrugs and smirks. “It depends on how hard you hit me.”

Tessa pulls the blanket higher on her chest. “I like their friendship,” she comments. Then she smiles. “It’s like ours.”

Scott looks at her comically. “I’ve never kicked you in the face, T. So no, it’s not like ours,” he disagrees.

She laughs. “Thank God for that. This mug kinda brings money to the table, ya know what I’m sayin’,” she drawls, gesturing to her face jokingly.

“And the fact that I can’t stomach ever hurting that mug, on top of you would never be as cool as Natasha and blows a kick in the face off as nothing,” he jokes.

“Hey, I’ve had an elbow or a knee in my face once or twice before, and I was totally cool with it,” she argues.

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you wanna talk about elbows and knees in your face eh?”

“Now you’re just being petty,” she pouts.

He chuckles, putting an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. “I’m not. All it proves is that we’re not Nat and Clint. We’re Tessa and Scott. And Poppy now. No matter what, we’re in this together, always. And no matter what, I love you.”

* * *

“You’re getting old, T,” he teases as he watches grouchy Tessa sips slowly on her black coffee.

Tessa rolls her eyes. “Ordering plain black is not an indication of getting old. I’m tired from the movie marathon last night and I need all the caffeine I could get,” she reasons, shoving his shoulder playfully. “On the subject of black coffee and getting old, isn’t black your coffee of choice for the past decade? What does that tell about you?” she shoots back.

Scott rolls his eyes, pulling her closer to his side, grateful she’s getting more open to physical contacts now. Both of them are in joggers and their workout clothes as he steers her to a familiar building.

She looks up, scrunching her face at him adorably. “Isn’t it a little too early for the ballet? I thought we’re going jogging or something.”

He shakes his head, opening the door for her. “Nope, not jogging. And you’re right. Apollo starts at 2,” he replies conspiratorially.

“It’s 8, Scott. I don’t think even the stage manager is here already.”

He grins, pulling her hand along. She’s finished with her coffee and tosses the cup into a nearby recycled bin. “Oh ye of little faith. Just wait,” he promises. He spots the correct door with number 3 on it, knocks once and turns the knob. “Here ya go, hall 3.”

She looks at him curiously. “How do you know which room to go in?” she questions, looking around the room, trying to make sense of things. Her eyes widen when they land on two familiar figures standing by the barre. Her hands grapple for his arm, at which she squeezes hard. She raises on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Scott, I’m pretty sure that’s Heather Ogden and Guillaume Cote, but isn’t that Heather Ogden and Guillaume Cote??”

Scott purses his lips, trying to contain his laughter. He waves at the couple, who are approaching them with smiles on their faces. “Hi Tessa, hi Scott. Welcome to NBC,” the man greets, smiling kindly. His curly hair is reminiscent of Scott’s circa 2017 and he kind of misses the flow. How Tessa used to love to run her fingers through his hair…

Digressing.

“Hi,” she stutters, waving awkwardly. “I’m Tessa. I mean, yes, you seem to know my name, urm, and you’re Heather and Guillaume,” she says, her voice takes the child-like quality the he loves so much.

The blond woman giggles as she steps closer to them. “Yes, that’s our name. And you’re Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir. Both of us are huge fans of yours.”

“Urm, yeah. No, I mean, I’m a huge fan of yours too!” She looks over at Scott, who’s beaming at her, but with a hint of nervousness. He can see that she’s dying to jump of the spot. She hits him once on the shoulder and he winces. “Scott, you should have told me! I could have brought my ballet shoes to be signed on or something.”

“He wants it to be a surprise for you,” Heather explains, looking at them with a gentle smile on her face.

Tessa looks at him, her face full of questions. Heather and Guillaume step away discreetly to the barre, leaving them to talk.

“Maybe a new project?” he looks at her, his face and heart hopeful.

Her shoulders fall. So does her hand on his as it falls to her side. “Scott…”

His heart thudding, he can feel Guillaume and Heather’s gazes on them. He reaches down to grab both her hands in his. “Listen. I know, I know that we called it quits to being partners on ice. And I know it’s going to take some time for you to agree to dance on the ice with me again. But this can signify a new beginning, Tess,” he says urgently, squeezing her hands. “And I want to experience this with you, because I’ve missed doing just that, and above all, I’ve missed you so much. Will you allow me to hold your hand in dance hold again, kiddo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling a bit demotivated after their trip to Korea. They looked so disconnected. :(


	30. Chapter 30

She closes the door gently behind her. Sizzling sound and the smell of bacon fills the air.

“T, that you?”

She chucks her keys into the bowl on the hallway table and contemplates before going into the kitchen. “Nope. Crazy axe murderer here to kill you,” she calls back.

The sound of his laughter resounds from the kitchen, prompting her own smile.

She steps into the kitchen, leaning against the island. He’s busy flipping bacon onto a plate of toast and poached egg. He turns off the stove and slides the plate in front of her.

_Shit_.

“Just in time for breakfast,” he announces, his eyes crinkling at the side.

She just had poached eggs not fifteen minutes ago, and is kind of plenty full.

However, she flashes him a grateful smile and sits down at the counter. _You can eat an extra egg and toast, Virtue. Do it for him._ “Thank you, Scott. It smells great.”

He goes through the drawer for cutleries and passes behind her to grab his coffee. He leans down casually to drop a kiss on her head, and she freezes.

A second, then two, go by before she can breathe again.

He scrunches up his nose.

“Do I smell that bad?” she asks jokingly as her heart beat returns to normal.

He shakes his head, looking ponderous. “But why do you smell of uh, I don’t know, the ocean? Did you change your shower gel?”

“I think that new Bath and Body works spray. I got it as a promo piece. You don’t like it?” she says quickly, her heart beating rapidly, trying to mask her trepidation by raising an eyebrow.

He pouts, stabbing a piece of bacon. “No. I prefer your old Lavanila.”

She leans back against her chair. “Okay.”

“‘Okay’ you’ll change back to Lavanila or ‘okay’ you don’t give a shit anyway?” he asks, looking at her, hopeful.

She laughs. “‘Okay’ I’ll change it back to Lavanila.”

He gives her his best scrunched up face and she bursts out laughing.

They eat in comfortable silence.

“Have you given a thought on that special project with Heather and Guillaume?”

She looks up from her plate. She knows he’s not trying to push. He has put so much thought into the project, running it by Russell for his feedback, whether it would interfere with her current schedule.

“I’m just not sure about the message we’re sending to the public though,” she replies cautiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Scott,” she begins gently. “Everybody and their grandma knows of our retirement and parting last spring. It’s a little odd to be making new projects, isn’t it?”

He purses his lips, and places his fork down slowly. He looks away, averting her eyes. “Does that mean no collaboration, no working together, no new projects, ever again?”

“You know-.”

He holds up his hand. “I’m sorry. Work with me here, T. I don’t want to be playing the husband card here, because God knows I don’t deserve to, however I’m not going to hesitate to pull the lifelong friends card. You’re my person. You’re the one I go to with business ideas. You’re the one I go to with ideas, period. What to do with my lawn and backyard. What to do with my skate shop messy accounting. What to do with my junior team choreo. What to do with life, period.”

She exhales, opening her mouth to speak.

“All my ideas, all my works, revolves around you and our lives together. You are a part of me, T. As I live and breathe. I will always want to go to you with things, whether it’s about my business, which happened to be YOUR brainchild, whether it’s about my team, who ADORE you, and whether it’s about my personal projects, because you, T, are the best part of my life. I will always want to work with you. So please,” he stutters. “ _Please_ don’t tell me we can’t ever work together again.”

The sound of her own fork clattering on the porcelain breaks the silence. She looks at him, his face lowered, a stray tear dropping on his plate.

Her heart thuds painfully.

She darts out of her chair and drops on her knees next to him, pulling his hands into hers. “Look at me, please,” she pleads.

He’s full on sobbing, but turns his body, head down.

“I’m sorry,” she urges softly. “You’re my person too, Scott. _No matter what happens, we’re in this together_ , remember? I’m sorry I forgot,” she whispers. “Will you forgive me?”

He drops from his chair and they embrace each other tightly, a cleansing fire. “Always, T. Always.”

* * *

“Pumpkin is the best pie ever, Uncle Scott. How could you think otherwise?” Poppy argues, hands on hips, war face on.

Scott rolls his eyes playfully. “I swear you’re an old lady in a six-year old body. Only grandmas like pumpkins. Pecan is THE best pie ever.”

Tessa sighs as her eyes dart from the small but feisty girl in one corner to the man boy in the other corner. “No name calling, please.”

Scott looks at her in disbelief. “What? I didn’t name call!”

“You called me grandma!” Poppy shouts.

“I did NOT call you grandma. I said only grandmas like pumpkins,” Scott reiterates slowly, ending with a playful ‘duh’.

“If I promise to bake two pies will you guys chill out?” Tessa says, tired of the screaming match already.

“Deal!”

And that is how she finds herself pushing the shopping cart in Metro at two nights before Thanksgiving.

She looks down at her list nervously. She has mastered the art of chocolate pie since it’s HER favorite, but she’s yet to try her hand on baking the seasonably-appropriate pumpkin and pecan pies before.

She has turned to Ina Garten for guidance, watched multiple Youtube and Allrecipes videos before she gained the confidence needed.

She doesn’t want to let her niece, and her once-again best friend down.

She turns to the liquor aisle, planning to grab a couple of Riesling for dinner. A woman is standing in front of a row of vodka, looking like she’s making some life-changing decision.

Tessa pauses, not wanting to disrupt the woman’s contemplation, but can’t help tsk-ing when the woman picks up a bottle of Grey Goose. She feels like it is her civic duty to step forward, therefore she plucks one Purity before presenting it to the woman.

“That overpriced piece has nothing on this one,” she says, before adding, “On me.”

The shorter woman looks startled, before rolling her eyes at her. “Of course. You would have opinions on _everything_ ,” she replies sarcastically. “I can’t imagine prim and proper Her Highness cringes at paying twenty dollars more for a bottle of vodka.”

Tessa raises an eyebrow. “You bet this one does, because I refuse to spend extra on a mediocre overstated brands when there’s a cheaper, smoother alternative.” She shrugs her shoulders, then places the bottle in her cart. “It’s at the cashier if you change your mind. The least I could do for the mental torture myself and my niece have bestowed upon you.”

She prepares to walk away when Jackie calls out.

“I didn’t mean the things I said about your niece.”

Tessa chuckles, turning on her feet. “I’m glad that it’s mostly me your wrath is directed to.”

“It’s Scott, actually.”

Tessa’s face softens. She scrutinises the other woman, who looks fairly okay considering she is supposedly brokenhearted while perusing the liquor aisle. Tessa marvels enviously, thinking about her own dark period back when they had finally completed TTYCT and Scott had jetted off to Florida. She didn’t cope well, judging by the amount of chocolates consumed and the puffy eyes she was trying to hide for weeks.

It is all in the past now, locked tight and stored under things and feelings she’s never going to unbury concerning her best friend. They are finally at a good place, and she’s pretty confident they are going to manage co-parenting with flying colors from here onwards.

She owes it to this woman somehow. She didn’t think she could ever surpass the threshold of being clinically depressed and came out alive and stronger.

“Don’t be angry at him, Jackie. He does love you. He’s just trapped in the situation where he felt he needed to become a hero. It’s going to be over soon, though.”

“You do know that I’m the enemy here, don’t you?”

Tessa looks at her like she’s a child. “But you also love Scott. And no matter how vindictive and cunning you are, you won’t hurt Poppy’s chances for the future,” she explains patiently.

Jackie looks at her curiously. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

Tessa nods, leaning against her cart. “I am.”

“You do know I can hurt your chances with Poppy.”

“You definitely can and you can definitely try. But I don’t think you have it in you.”

The blonde woman narrows her eyes, before sighing, looking resigned. She crosses her arms in front of her. “I get it.”

“What do you get?”

“You always see the best in people.”

Taken aback, Tessa purses her lips, not expecting the compliment.

“But you can’t see certain things though,” Jackie adds.

It is Tessa’s turn to look at her curiously.

“That this thing with you and Scott, you’re his end game. Everybody else is just a checkpoint.”

Tessa opens her mouth to protest. That is a pretty shitty way to think of oneself.

Jackie puts a hand up to silent her, rolling her eyes. “You guys were never done. He’s in repentance. I hope you won’t be too hard on him,” she says, raising an eyebrow. Then she shrugs, looking at the bottles lining the rack nonchalantly. “I’d kick him around a bit, but for everyone’s sake including mine, I hope you take him back,” she finishes, looking at Tessa directly in her eyes.

Tessa watches, jaw dropped, as the other woman adds a bottle of Four Roses into Tessa’s cart. “Trust me, you will be needing this,” Jackie says, before walking away.

* * *

HIs thick cock sits heavy in her pussy, his movement creates a delicious friction against her spot.

_The pair of hazel eyes crinkle with happiness as they hug after the winning goal against Oilers._

“You close, baby?”

She nods, moaning slightly, as she shifts her ass higher, trying to get closer to him.

His thumb flicks gently on her clit, and his lips pull on her earlobe, encouraging her to come to completion in soft low persuasion. His hair tickles her cheek, his scent surrounding her.

_The yellow hue of the poppy reminds her of sunshine, which in return reminds her of summer days by the lake, circa 2016 and 2017._

_They were so happy._

He fills her again, faster this time, the urgency in his movement apparent. His breathing is labored, telltale sign he’s going to come soon.

_His hand wraps around hers and he leans down to leave a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for coming with me, kiddo.”_

He spills deep inside her, once twice, his orgasm triggering her own. He mutters a low ‘fuck’ as he peppers her face with gentle kisses, first on her lids, then on her cheeks, before he leans down to tangle his tongue with hers. They kiss, one hand in his hair, the other squeezing his ass, before they pull apart, their breathing hard.

“Thank you, baby.”

She exhales gently, trying to slow the rapid beating of her heart. He really is handsome, the beautiful eyes, the high cheekbones, the sculpted jaw. She runs a hand down his chest, lower to his abs, and she squeezes experimentally, admiring the hard quality of his rectus muscles. She chuckles lowly, and bites her lip, looking up to him from behind her lashes. “Thank you.”

He looks down at her, his cock still snug within her, semi-hard, his arms framing her face. He smiles with his eyes, the blue twinkling in the dark, and her heart skips a beat, hazel slowly dissipating to the back of her mind, along with her conscience.

“Let’s take a shower together,” he declares, pushing strands of stray chestnut hair from her forehead. The heady musk of sex and sweat fills the air, mixed with his natural androgynous scent, and she shudders a little. The movement stirs his cock alive, and a slow smirk blooms on his lips.

“We don’t have time,” she moans, feeling his slight push within her.

He lifts her in his arms, and starts moving them to the bathroom, the feeling of his cock deep in her delicious. “We’ll make time,” he says it like a promise.

And he delivers, again and again, while the dawn sets outside.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. At this point I think T has a secret husband and he's definitely not Scott Moir. Nor A. Poje (cackles).


End file.
